E is For Embarrassment
by squad51rescue
Summary: The men from Station 51 find themselves in some awkward situations. All stand alone chapters, could be as few as 3 or as many as 50; it all depends!
1. Chapter 1

**_E is For Embarrassment_**

 _Emergency and its characters are the property of Universal Studios and Mark VII – just borrowing them!_

"Please, please, don't lift my dress," the young woman pleaded, shifting sideways once again so that she could maintain her fierce hold on the hem of her dress. John Gage, a paramedic for the Los Angeles County Fire Department, flashed a puzzled look towards her. He was crouched on one knee at her side, trying to slide the material of her dress upwards. The garment was stuck firmly to her thigh and between that and the white knuckled grip she was maintaining he wasn't getting anywhere fast.

His tone was patient, but bordering on exasperation. "Miss, I need to see where the blood is coming from."

He didn't want to add that it was an awful lot of blood, and if it was her femoral artery that was in any way compromised, she wasn't going to have to worry about modesty much longer. She had allowed him to at least get a 4x4 pad on wherever it was bleeding from (a good guess on his part by finding the blood by feel); his hand was holding it securely in place and applying pressure. But every time he tried to get that blasted dress out of the way she started to fight, which made the whole situation worse in every way possible.

"Can't you just get someone, um, older maybe?" She asked fretfully, tears beginning to shine in her wide opened eyes. Any other time those glistening little weapons would have had a devastating effect on him, especially coming out of those brilliant blue eyes; he would have probably capitulated after a bit more eyelash fluttering. But not while he was working, and absolutely not when the victim was in jeopardy. What was her problem anyway? After all, his hand was under her dress, what difference was it going to make if he actually saw her upper leg?

"My partner is, but not by much, and right now he's working on someone else…" He explained patiently, switching hands and pleased to see that there was no blood on his fingers. The bleeding had thankfully slowed or stopped thanks to the pressure.

She shook her head and he sighed; it was definitely another one of those things they didn't cover in paramedic training. By the end of his first year, he figured he could write his own manual on bizarre incidents in the field.

"Captain Hammer!" He shouted, as he looked up and around and spied the "older" man coming around the nose of the wrecked car. Maybe the fatherly looking Hammer would fit her needs, because it was evident that his bedside manner wasn't working. She was doing an excellent job of eroding his self-confidence in both his paramedic and people skills.

"Gage?" Hammer questioned, strolling over with his HT dangling from his hand and looking remarkably relaxed, well, as relaxed as a captain could while he was on duty. That meant the accident scene was probably about cleaned up, except for his stubborn victim.

"Cap, this young lady doesn't want, uh, won't let me take a look at her leg," Johnny explained, waving his free hand in the general direction of the leg in question, her clutching fingers, and his other arm with the hand out of sight under the brilliant colors of her dress.

Hammer, as usual with his professionalism firmly in place, responded by raising a questioning eyebrow and looked down at her. She summoned him towards her with a beckoning finger and he obliged her by crouching down next to her and leaning in. John watched as she whispered something in his ear. The expression on the cap's face changed imperceptibly, and Gage would later think that he had definitely seen a smile flash across his leader's face.

"Oh, right, I understand," Hammer said gently, his lips still twisted slightly upwards. "I'll be right back."

He flashed his paramedic a funny look and disappeared in the direction of the squad. Johnny watched him go and shifted his upper body, trying to ease some of the strain that his uncomfortable position on the pavement was inflicting upon him. He again wondered what the repercussions would be if he simply slit her dress with his scissors and treated the wound. And came up with the same answer he'd had several minutes ago when this whole mess had started. He didn't care what his reprimand or punishment might be, but he was pretty sure that she would jump to her feet and take off running, or else leap up and bean him with the giant, heavy purse he had settled, at her request, next to her head. So not only would she aggravate her injury, she would probably knock him senseless. Man, where was his partner when he needed him?

"What's your name, Miss?" He asked, flashing a smile, hoping to ease her agitation. "I'm John, John Gage."

"Amy," she squeaked out, biting her upper lip and inadvertently chewing off the pale pink lipstick she was wearing. "Amy Prentiss."

"Are you sure you're not hurt anywhere else?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low and non-threatening. She was starting to squirm; she was really planting some serious misgivings in his brain about his charisma. The guys kept teasing him about the "Gage" charm, but he was beginning to think when he made an effort to turn it on, it never worked. Must be one of those things that he should just ignore, and that way it would come naturally.

The way she was looking at him reminded him of some kind of animal caught in a trap; good grief, was he really that threatening to her? Or was he just misreading her expressions and movements – perhaps she was in a lot of pain and just wouldn't admit to it. Maybe a head injury? He leaned back a bit, trying to stay out of her personal space but intent on getting to the bottom of the mystery.

She was shaking her head at him in response to his question when, luckily, Captain Hammer reappeared carrying one of the yellow blankets from their truck. He ripped off the plastic cover and hovered over her at about her waist, unfolding the sheet. He knelt down and glanced towards Johnny.

"I'm assuming that your hand under there is keeping pressure on the cut?" He asked wryly, nodding when Gage muttered an annoyed "yes sir" under his breath. "Well, keep that pressure on while I situate Miss…?" He glanced at the girl, who had shifted her saucer huge eyes from the paramedic to the captain.

"Prentiss, Miss Prentiss," she answered breathlessly, her eyes returning to normal.

Johnny blew out his breath and did as he had been instructed, but he was biting back his frustration. He could feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck and warming his cheeks. What did Hammer think he was going to do, let loose and let the chick bleed to death? He was a medic, for Pete's sake, he knew what he was doing, and in this area, a whole heck of a lot more knowledgeable then Hammer. And what was the crack about his hand being up under her skirt? He was really feeling like the Big Bad Wolf to her Little Red Riding Hood right now!

Without lifting the girl, the captain somehow managed to wrap the girl up in the yellow plastic blanket, swaddling it like a giant diaper around her. With a bit of sterile water, Johnny quickly and carefully disengaged the fabric from her skin, heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of the deep gash with no involvement of the artery; he mentally catalogued the wound as needing stitches yes, but muscle or nerve damage probably not.

She was ready for transport within minutes and let loose of Captain Hammer's hand as the ambulance attendants carried her stretcher off towards their waiting vehicle.

"John!" She called and Johnny, carrying a box in each hand, moved up beside her from his position behind her feet. "You will go with me, won't you?"

"Sure, sure," he replied, trying not to stammer his words out. That had been a pretty quick change in her attitude and he was pretty darn sure their usually very blank faced leader had just smirked at him! And there was his missing partner, leaning on the door with a wide grin on his face as he lifted his head away from Hammer's quiet words. DeSoto's patient was already sitting upright, although leaning crookedly to one side, in the ambulance watching the proceedings with interest, so apparently there was no hurry with that guy.

"What?" He shot the word at Roy as he tossed the boxes into the back and waited until the gurney was fastened in place.

Roy grinned wider and shook his head. "My patient has a sprained wrist, and a couple of dislocated fingers. I'll see you at the hospital."

"Right…." Gage replied, letting the attendant out of the back before he climbed in and crouching, spun around on the balls of his feet to glare at both Roy and his captain as they closed the doors.

Although it was only a ten minute trip to Rampart, Johnny felt like it was an eternity. Miss Amy Prentiss fluxuated between outrageous flirting and childlike innocence, batting her eyes at him one moment and then switching to simple, curious questions about his job. He couldn't figure her out, and the presence of the very amused male victim didn't help matters at all. In his haste to exit the vehicle when they finally arrived at their destination, he almost fell flat on his face. Only the quick reflexes of good old dependable DeSoto saved him and as a reward Johnny let him escort the girl through the doors, while he assisted the rather boozy smelling man from the back.

Of course he had to listen to several rather crude comments from the intoxicated fellow as he procured a wheelchair for him and left him in the capable hands of Joe Early. By the time he joined Roy at the desk where Dixie was perched on her chair, he was ready to call it quits for the day and slink home like the cur he was beginning to feel like.

"What did Hammer tell you?" He demanded of Roy, completely ignoring Dixie and stabbing an accusing finger towards his still smiling associate. "What was that girl's problem?"

"Oh, it was pretty simple, actually. She didn't want you to see her in her granny panties," Roy replied, letting out a rude snort of laughter.

"Her what? Granny panties, what the hell are those?" He threw a look towards the head nurse and mumbled a sheepish "sorry' even as her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

"I suppose you could call them, er, a little help here Dix?"

"Something no self-respecting single girl wears if there's a chance that a male is going to see her wearing them," Dixie explained matter of factly, switching her gaze back and forth between the two men, her eyes sparkling in merriment behind her long lashes. At Gage's blank look, she elaborated a bit further. "You know, if there's a chance that she's going to go home with him?"

"So you mean she was willing to bleed to death just because she didn't want me to see her in her ugly underwear?" Johnny was incredulous, and still not understanding the whole situation. The only thing he could think of was the old saying not to leave home unless you had on a clean pair of underwear just in case you WERE in an automobile wreck; he was pretty sure that was not what the young lady had intended.

"Just take it as a compliment, Johnny, and don't try to figure it out. She obviously was embarrassed, found you very attractive, and just couldn't handle you seeing her in her less than sexy panties."

Johnny felt the heat rising in his neck and reddening his face once again, started to reply, but choked on his attempted words and bolted down the hallway towards the safety of the rescue squad. As soon as he was out of sight, Dixie dropped her head down onto her arms and buried her laughter in the muffling cloth of her uniform, shoulders shaking.

"I swear, Roy, I will never understand women, not now, not ever," Johnny complained as they left the parking lot, his voice finally restored but his anxiety rising with each uttered word. "I just won't."

Roy smiled again, thinking that was one of the great pleasures of being married, trying to decipher his wife's motives, actions, and moods and usually failing miserably but still, when you loved someone that much, it was a very enjoyable puzzle. He was sure JoAnne had the same problem with him. With Johnny and the odd way he seemed to process things, however, it was hard to tell whether he would ever understand it. "Someday you will, John, just don't let it bother you too much. It's what makes the world go around."

"Yeah right," came the snorted reply and there was a brief period of silence as Johnny appeared to be mulling over the situation, slouching down in his seat with a mutinous look on his face.

"You know, she was a cute chick, but still, granny panties! Weird, just weird!" He bolted upright suddenly as a thought occurred to him; he threw a horrified look at Roy. "You don't think Hammer told the guys, do you?"

There was a long pause as both men considered the consequences. Johnny swallowed hard and smacked a hand down hard on the seat. "Chet, Chet will just have a field day with this! Can you imagine him getting his hands on a pair of those things and stringing them up from the flagpole? With a sign under them saying….."

Roy shook his head, not wanting to visualize that picture and broke in before the distraught man could finish the sentence. "So you think Chet is the one that's been targeting you with the little pranks?"

A long suffering sigh escaped Gage. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him by process of elimination."

This time DeSoto nodded in agreement. He pulled past the front of their firehouse and flicked a sideways glance at the flagpole as he began backing up the driveway. Johnny did have a point, with Chet one never did know what the man was going to do next!

~Fini~

 _A/N -These little one shots, hopefully a bit humorous for the readers as well as embarrassing for the guys, are my way of reenergizing and taking a break from the darker, angst filled stories that I also write. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

 _Fair warning -This chapter involves a fair amount of "grossness" so if you have a weak stomach, might want to skip this! (Especially if you're eating your Easter dinner of ham right now!)_

Crouching flat footed next to his patient and trying hard not to breathe in too much of the dust swirling about, Roy DeSoto wondered if the day was going to just keep getting better and better. First of all, it was Saturday, and while he usually grumbled about working on a weekend day, today was an exception. He was seriously glad to be at work on this weekend day.

For today JoAnne's brother was getting married on very short notice. While he actually liked the guy pretty well and wouldn't have minded being in attendance at the fall nuptials, it obviously meant that the mother - in - law would be there. Since there had not been enough advance notice to get the day off or find a replacement, he had slid right past any of the usual family fireworks. So JoAnne and the kids, his wife and young daughter prettily garbed in dresses, white gloves, and some kind of matching colored hats, and his sulking son Christopher outfitted in a grey suit, would be making the short jaunt to the church without him.

He had to admit, though, that he felt sorry for his poor wife, who was going to have to bear the wrath of her mother when she realized her precious daughter was attending an important family event without an escort and had been abandoned by her good for nothing spouse. He had no doubts however, that Anne would stand up for both herself and her working husband with her usual stubbornness and keep her overbearing mother in line. He thought back to his shift start several hours ago….

~eeeEEEeee~

A good mood hovering about him, he strolled into the station with a good twenty minutes to spare. After changing and bragging to John about his good luck, he headed into the break room whistling. He snagged a rich cup of coffee and even partook of his second breakfast. The departing shift had left omelets laden with gooey cheese, mushrooms, bacon, and just enough jalapeños to give the food a delicious, spicy edge. Well, maybe more peppers then was necessary but the chaser of milk had cut down on the fieriness that threatened to overtake him during roll call; he absolutely had no regrets.

Even being assigned to hang hoses didn't dampen his high spirits in the slightest; he simply asked Johnny to climb the tower so that he could remain safely on the ground with easy access to the latrine in case his stomach rebelled. After all, the weather was beautiful, his smirking partner was helping him, and somewhere in a hotel room his mother - in - law was girding herself in the formidable armor of a matronly dress, white pearls, and sensible shoes; this time he wouldn't have to play the sacrificial dragon to keep peace within the family. Yes indeed, what a glorious day to be at work.

"How come your mother - in - law isn't staying with you?" John asked, peering down from his perch on top of the rack.

The grin, that hadn't left DeSoto's face since his alarm in the pleasing shape of his wife had went off several hours ago, stretched even wider at the question. "She wanted to stay at the hotel with the rest of the wedding party, no doubt to get to know her future daughter better."

"Huh," was the quick witted response from above. Roy paused a moment to see if any more questions were going to fly in his direction but only a hose being yanked upwards met his silence. Apparently Gage had dried up his curiosity, for the moment anyways.

Then again, maybe he hadn't, as another query plopped into the quiet. "So…..what's her name?"

Roy couldn't help his furtive glance about, as if an evil presence had entered the cement covered yard. "Um, that would be Ruth."

There was a thunk as Johnny dropped the last three feet of his descent from the tower instead of using the traditional method of feet and hands adhering to metal. He wiped his hands on his pants and grinned. "She sounds pretty benign."

An incredulous snort met the comment. "Her name doesn't do her justice, believe me. Once you meet her, you'll see what I mean."

"Roy, women of all ages like me, you just wait and see," he boasted, slapping his hand against his chest.

"John, you already have one strike against you; no, make that two strikes," Roy warned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before heading into the garage with Johnny tagging after him like an eager puppy.

"What do you mean two strikes? I've never even met the woman, how could she dislike me already?"

Roy held up two fingers and bent one down. "Number one, you're my partner - so by association and the fact she knows what your name is - she already doesn't like you."

He folded down the second finger. "Number two is that you're a firefighter which tops her list as an attention getting, idiotic, lame brained career choice. Oh wait, she doesn't consider our job a career, just a little boy's dream being fulfilled."

Johnny's mouth gaped open in surprise; he recovered and shot his partner a sympathetic look. "Wow, you're right she does seem pretty ahhh…nasty?"

"That's one thing you could call her," DeSoto muttered, mentally trying to grab for the last shred of good mood that was rapidly slipping away. He gave an exaggerated shake of his upper body, inhaled a huge breath, and then let it out slowly as he cleared his mind.

"That work for ya?" Johnny queried in interest, leaning on the squad and watching with bright eyes.

"Yup, it sure does," Roy replied calmly, a smile twisting his lips upwards as he realized it had indeed. The klaxons rang calling out the paramedics to a call and the child was rescued from his perch within a neighbor's tree house with a minimum of fuss. He didn't even care when his partner slid behind the wheel of their truck and took over the driving; he was content to sit back and watch the world go by as they cruised back to the station.

Another call for both them and the engine this time diverted them from the path homewards. It was on the edge of their territory and Roy had to peruse their map book to find the road they needed. They had barely made the turn onto the dirt road when they came upon the accident scene. Both men shot astonished looks at the herd of cows milling about the barely discernible surface of the street before ejecting out of the cab and grabbing their gear.

There was only one car visible within the black and white mass of lowing animals; the right front fender of a brown Cadillac was jammed up against the metal post of a fence. They trudged quickly through the dusty surface, heading in the direction of the back of the finned car and towards the opened driver's door. As they hustled, they heard the comforting rumble of the Crown. Mike Stoker unerringly parted the sea of cows alongside of them, herded them ahead, and parked the red beast as close as he could to the back of the damaged vehicle.

"Wow, sure am glad to see you guys," a disembodied voice sighed, floating up from the front seat as they pushed past a curious cow and reached the door. Roy bent over and ducked his head to peer inside the car.

A middle aged man was slumped wearily over the steering wheel, holding a hand to the cut on the bridge of his nose and fumbling with his still attached seatbelt. Roy deftly unclicked it for him and after ascertaining that there were no other injuries, bandaged the cut and helped him out and to his feet. He walked him towards the side of the squad intent on getting him away from the cows, which appeared to be making the well-dressed man nervous.

They were about five feet away when the victim convulsively grabbed Roy's arm, tipped against him, and started a downward slide. DeSoto spun on his heel, shot his hands out, and heard the drop of boxes as Gage jumped to his assistance. Carefully they laid the man down on the well-trod, hoof churned surface of the road. As the paramedics' hands descended to obtain new vitals he opened his eyes and squinted blearily up at them.

"I passed out like a girl, didn't I?" He asked, trying to sit up but held in place by Roy's hand on his chest. "Well, it's not the first time. Usually the sight of blood will fell me instantly like a tree; I guess my brain just didn't make the connection until now."

He sheepishly held out his blood stained hand, averting his head so that he wouldn't see it again. DeSoto couldn't help the sigh of relief that it was nothing more serious and accepted the water soaked gauze Johnny handed over to him. He cleaned the businessman's face and then the hand and checked the vitals once more. Assured that his readings were all normal the relieved fellow refused treatment. Roy let the man slowly sit up, both of them closing their eyes to keep out the dust wafting over them as Gage lugged the equipment back to the squad.

And that was how wonderful the day had been going, Roy mused, not bothering to hide his smile of contentment as the dust settled without harm to their eyes. He lingered in his crouched position for several more minutes, making sure Mr. Harold Binging was indeed fine before allowing him to clamber to his feet. A flick of the wrist showed that it was almost eleven, which meant that his little family would no doubt be getting ready to pile into the station wagon. With small kids in tow, it was always wise to be ready early as inevitable delays always seemed to make the extra minutes a moot point. Both he and Jo had learned that little lesson very quickly.

The sound of a dirt bike heralded the return of the young man who had rode for help; flashing lights indicated both the arrival of a sheriff's deputy and a tow truck. The paramedic released Mr. Binging in the direction of the teenager with the usual caution of calling his own doctor if further problems arose. Hands on his hips, Roy watched him stride purposefully away, hopefully to thank the kid, and then turned his attention to the engine crew of Station 51. They were climbing aboard the Crown, apparently finished with whatever they had needed to do with the mangled Cadillac.

Satisfied, he swung back around. Noting Gage's black booted feet and blue uniformed legs hanging downwards from the driver's side of the squad, he changed direction and detoured in a diagonal line towards the passenger door.

Squish, squish…he stopped abruptly at the alien sound and looked down in dismay at the very fresh pile of cow manure he had just stepped in. And not just with one foot, either; both feet were firmly entrenched in several piles of the odorous stuff. Stifling a loud groan, he sucked each foot up out of the mess and purposely dragged and scuffed his feet through the questionable material of rocks, dirt, and something else that made up the road.

"Good grief, Roy, what the heck are you doing?" The youthful, laughing voice trumpeted over the roof of their Dodge and Roy scowled towards the source. John obviously had heard the noise he had tried to cover up for he was peering over the top of their truck with a hand balancing him on either side and grinning like an idiot; the little twerp must be standing on the running board.

"Johnny, put a cork in it," he muttered under his breath, feeling an unaccustomed flush of heat rolling up his neck.

He was pretty sure that the exaggerated voice had carried beyond the several cows that were off to the side of him and doing the endless chewing bit they all did; there was no doubt that the humans, at least some of them, had heard the innocent sounding question. There was no way he was going to turn around and check. A moment later peals of laughter wafting from the open cab from the rear facing linemen confirmed his suspicions; of course the throaty purr of the Engine coming to life happened several seconds after that and wasn't in time to cover up the jarring brays of enjoyment.

He finished his crab like walk to the side of the road, deciding to just ignore the juvenile antics of his crewmates, and looked hopefully at the sparse clumps of weeds and funny looking grass that were thriving despite the lack of water.

"Probably got roots a mile long and sucking up the irrigation water from the fields," he theorized absently, trying to scrape off the dung on the hardy greenery. Only partly satisfied with the results, he dragged his feet over to the door, opened it, sat down on the edge of the seat, and bumped his boots against each other and the red painted metal of the running board.

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home," Johnny teased in a high pitched voice, giggling around the words spoken by Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. He turned the key in the ignition and waited for his partner to draw his legs in.

""Very funny," Roy answered, gingerly letting only his heels touch the mats so that there would be less area to clean.

"You know," Gage began, with the pitch of his voice warning of a memory about to surface. Roy stubbornly crossed his arms across his chest and wouldn't give his reminiscing partner the satisfaction of any kind of reply.

John glanced over at him, lips twitching in gleeful anticipation. "I had this dog once…"

He waited for a second, in vain, as DeSoto still wouldn't rise to the bait. "Well, that's what you kinda reminded me of when you were dragging your feet across the road; that dog used to scoot his butt across the grass…"

He was unable to finish the sentence because his laughter choked off whatever else he was going to describe; Roy thought it was a rather good description but wasn't about to admit to anything right now. He turned his head away to gaze blankly out the window to hide his amused reaction as the still snickering Gage finally got their truck onto the paved road.

When he had finally composed himself to turn his head, Johnny was still grinning and lost in his own world. Roy tipped his head back to rest on the glass behind him and let his thoughts wander in the direction of the wedding that should be getting under way shortly. The cow excrement adorning his shoes was just a minor setback in this glorious day and really, it wasn't the first time he had stepped in something unpleasant and surely wouldn't be the last. He finally let his own smile escape as he visualized the dreaded Ruth riding up the aisle of the church on the back of one those chewing cows and leaving cow patties in her wake instead of rose petals, or whatever it was, that the pretty little flower girls tossed about. Oh yes, life was grand wasn't it?

The radio erupted to life; another MVA and he acknowledged the call as he stretched an arm behind his partner and grabbed his helmet, then unhooked Gage's and handed it to him. Professional masks in place, they roared their way to the accident with the Crown close behind.

It was Vince Howard on the scene of this accident, which involved two cars this time. As Gage slid the squad to a smooth stop, Roy assessed the scene quickly and realized it was another fender bender. Instead of a car and a fencepost, however, this one involved the cars at a perfect right angle. From the casual attitude and movements of both the deputy and the other helpful bystanders, it didn't appear to be serious.

Noting Johnny's trotting to the left and the pickup truck, Roy veered slightly to the right and around the back bumper of the Ford to reach the side of the red MG. It appeared to be a repeat of the earlier incident; a guy was slumped over the wheel and holding a hand to his face.

"Sir?" He questioned, tapping on the closed window to get his attention before trying to open the door. The man jerked upright and then pushed the door open; Roy had to jump back to miss getting whacked in the legs.

"Hey," the victim answered calmly. It was a younger man this time, in his early thirties or so, with long blond hair and scruffy facial hair trying its best to form a beard. "Sorry about that man, you scared me."

He unfolded himself out of the low slung sports car, towering over Roy by four inches but thinner by at least twenty pounds. The paramedic stayed him with a cautionary hand, intent on checking him over. He introduced himself and asked the usual questions.

"I'm Tom and nah, man, I'm fine, just cracked my wrist on the steering wheel." He belched loudly, causing Roy to involuntarily lean back away from the fumes enveloping him in a noxious cloud. "Uh, crap, ate too much at that buffet and now it's coming back up on me…"

He rubbed his stomach, grinned, and obligingly followed the medic over to the new, box type ambulance which had just arrived. He sat quietly while his vitals were taken and covered his mouth when he burped again, earning a thankful look from Roy as he checked his wrist and the rest of his body.

"Looks like you broke it, but everything else seems fine. You'll need to go to the hospital to have it x-rayed….."

"Oh sure, sure, may as well take advantage of the wheels since it looks like mine is out of commission," he agreed, and after Roy splinted the wrist, climbed up into the back of the ambulance and dropped down with another burp onto the bench.

"Hey, Roy!" Roy turned at the sound of his name, and spied John heading his way, juggling a crying baby in his arms.

"Can you take this thing while I get his mom out? Theresa, she somehow got her foot wedged under the petals and I kinda need both hands…" he trailed off and thrust the screaming infant against Roy's chest, not waiting for an answer. Desoto shot his hands out and encircled the baby in his arms before Gage dropped the kid; he opened his mouth to berate his younger partner but Johnny was already loping away.

"This thing," he grumbled, patting the wailing banshee gently on the back and making soothing noises. There was a sudden intake of breath from the tyke, the crying ceased, and a huge burp equal to that of the male victim erupted from the baby's mouth. DeSoto smiled in satisfaction, confident that he hadn't lost his touch; the smile disappeared when an eruption of formula followed the stomach relieving belch and splatted against his shoulder and oozed downwards.

He kept his mouth closed this time and turned his head slightly to avoid smelling the sour stench of milk soaking through his shirt. Shifting the now quiet child, he paused when his hand encountered an ominous wet of another sort. Looking down he noticed his hand was encountering a very wet diaper through the thin material of the dress covering the kid's bottom.

"Gage, I'm going to kill you," he mumbled, trying to reposition the kid and being met with a different odor of a worse kind. He thwarted the strong urge to thrust the sweetly smiling baby away from him and instead turned to see what was happening with the mother and his soon to be strangled partner.

Luckily the duo was approaching, although he had to squint to make out that it was indeed a woman, and not a child. For the lady was tiny, not even reaching the lanky Gage's shoulder; she probably didn't weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet and with heels on, it was doubtful that she would even reach the staggering height of five foot tall. He looked at her again, and then peered inside the narrow confines of the vehicle he was standing by. Something was seriously backwards, he thought with a tiny spark of amusement. Here was a long string bean of a man driving a tiny car that he barely fit into, and there was a woman navigating a huge truck and probably having to use blocks on the petals. The world was often a strange place indeed.

The lady made strange cooing sounds over the happy state of her baby and apologized profusely for the combination of smells that were emitting from his uniform.

"I still can't get the hang of those pins," she lamented, correctly interpreting the strange look both paramedics gave her – the baby had to be at least two or three months old and she still couldn't get the diaper on correctly? "Rob, my husband, well his mother has been staying with us and she always changes my darling Gertrude. She's been an absolute gem."

A snicker of amusement sounded from behind DeSoto and he knew that John was making the comparison between his stories of Ruth and the lady's obviously well liked in law. He had to admit the same thoughts were flying through his mind as well; he just wished Gage would quit rubbing salt into his wounds.

He helped the lady up into the back, careful of her shoulder which was swathed in a sling, and holding the IV aloft that Johnny passed to him. She perched next to their male victim, exchanging pleasantries with him; the guy reciprocated with equal good cheer, both of them conveniently forgetting about their disabled vehicles being hosed down in front of them.

"An IV?" Roy asked out of the side of his mouth, lifting an eyebrow in puzzlement as Johnny next passed up a huge bag bulging with diapers and other baby paraphernalia, then a low sided, long basket with a cushion that seemed to be the baby's mode of transportation. Johnny waited until the woman had awkwardly settled the basket in front of her on top of the secured gurney and his counterpart had settled the baby in it and hooked her IV bag onto a hook before answering.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, for a dislocated shoulder, but it was that intern Morton that ordered it. Plus, she didn't really want her shot of MS delivered IM."

"Mr. DeSoto, do you think you could ride with us?" She giggled, holding up a pre-folded diaper and awkwardly trying to move the baby in the basket. Roy stared blankly at her for a second before comprehension dawned; she was assuming he had experience with kids and needed help changing the baby.

The woman giggled again, her pain killer obviously kicking in. "Sorry Johnny, you just don't strike me as the kind of guy that can manage this task."

"Oh, no problem, no problem at all." Gage was backing up, hands held up and a toothy grin warning Roy to stay in place. "I'll get your jacket, Roy, and the boxes, Chet is bringing those…"

He disappeared towards the squad, missing Roy's muttered "coward"; Roy stepped out of the sight of the occupants in the ambulance and gingerly peeled off his destroyed shirt. He held it away from him with one finger, while trying to unpin his badge, nametag, and paramedic pin without touching anything else.

Kelly meandered up, the door between them, and set the boxes down within the ambulance. He peered around the door and drew back his head in disgust. Wisely he held his tongue, but didn't bother concealing the look of disgust as Roy handed the shirt to him and asked him to take it with him.

"You owe me big time, DeSoto," Chet groused, holding the offending garment in front of him as he strolled towards the engine and the hose that was being reeled in. "Hold up with that line, Marco!"

"Tell me about it," the paramedic said to the departing back, and accepted with a scowl his blue jacket from his still grinning partner, who had swaggered up beside him. "You owe ME big time, John."

"Tell me about it," Gage parroted, making a hasty escape.

Roy sighed, slid all of his pins in his front pants pocket, donned and zipped the jacket, pasted on a small smile, and clambered into the ambulance across from the two patients. He noticed that neither of the attendants joined him in the back; they closed the doors and both got into the front.

"I really appreciate the help, Mr. DeSoto; I just knew you were a family man by the way you held Gertie."

He listened with only half of his attention as she droned pleasantly on, regaling both men with stories of her husband, baby, and sainted mother - in – law. His hands somehow remembered how to change a diaper, although he was unable to keep his face impassive as he removed the stinking cloth, cleaned and powdered the child, and somehow managed to get the pins in place without sticking the baby or himself. He was just thankful that the baby was indeed a girl, no matter what Gage had thought; he'd diapered his son enough times to know what the air did to the boy babies when they were laid bare. He didn't need any more liquid splashing him today. When he was finished he slid down the bench to the opposite corner to get away from the still reeking, plastic wrapped package he had deposited by the back doors.

The man sitting opposite him was rocking slightly, cradling his wrist. His eyes were closed with lips drawn into a tight line and DeSoto watched him a second, wondering if the adrenaline had faded and the pain had finally kicked in. He rose to his feet and turned his head to see where he had deposited his stethoscope; the now groaning guy lurched upwards and emptied the contents of his stomach in a cascade of thick fluid across the narrow bed and all over the half bent medic.

Roy recoiled back, smacking his back against the equipment on the wall. Tom threw up several more times, decorating the crisp white sheet of the gurney in front of him but thankfully it was not the projectile vomit that had sprayed Roy the whole length of his clean jacket. Sitting half on the bench, dumbfounded, Desoto held his hands away from him and felt his own stomach threatening mutiny. He swallowed convulsively, trying to will down the volcano that was ready to erupt.

"It was the ham, had to be the ham," Tom moaned from across the reeking gurney. Theresa had slid next to him and was tenderly wiping his face with a pink flannel burp cloth, whispering sympathetic words.

The medic looked down at the gruesome mess soaking his jacket and realized that indeed, ham seemed to be playing the major role in the slop. The guy must have consumed at least 5 slices of it.

"Here, Mr. DeSoto," Theresa said, holding a paper towel towards him. "Maybe you can unzip your jacket with this so you don't, well, don't have to put your fingers in it."

He accepted the gift with a nod, not wanting to open his mouth and inhale any of the stenches wafting from the garment. Carefully, he unzipped it, using the towel as she had suggested. Casting a wary eye towards Tom, and satisfied that he wasn't going to decorate him anymore, he half rose from his uncomfortable sprawl and tugged off the offending clothing with one paper towel covered hand. He wadded it up inside out leaving the towel within it, looked outside to see how close they were to the hospital, and worked his way to the double doors. He gingerly laid the blue wad next to the diaper garbage, and started working his way back to the seat.

"Let me help you," Theresa volunteered, leaning precariously across the clean part of the sheeted gurney and holding out a wet washcloth. "You have some on the side of your face."

"Oh," was all he could think of to say as he met her halfway in the leaning department and let her clean his face and neck. He knew his face was red with embarrassment once again; he felt like a toddler having his juice stained face cleaned.

He steadied her with a hand as they turned onto the road leading to the emergency entrance. They both dropped down into their seats as the vehicle stopped, reversed and began backing up into the designated slot in front of the automatic doors.

Still smelling himself, Roy scrubbed furiously at his skin and hair with the washcloth, in no hurry to head over to the doors when they stopped. He heard the slamming of doors and a moment later the back doors whipped open. There was a collective exclamation as both bundles fell out; DeSoto was sure the white garbed attendants would be using more explicit language if the woman hadn't been sidling her way to the end.

He finally moved, keeping an eye on Tom, who still had the cloth over his lips as he stumbled towards the entrance. Roy saw the dark head of his partner coming into view as the man was helped out.

"Holy garbage dump, batman, you smell like poop and vomit!" Johnny exclaimed, his voice muffled from behind the hand that was up to his mouth.

"Tell me about it," Roy snarled, unable to say what he really wanted to say with the civilians hanging about. Theresa was already on her way down the corridor, flanked by two nurses carrying her baby, the assorted gear, and the IV bottle, while their male patient was being escorted within by the older of the two ambulance guys. The other one was standing upwind away from the paramedics, no doubt swallowing some curse words of his own; he was no doubt the man with the least experience on their crew and would be doing the bulk of the cleanup.

"Uh, did you…?" Gage choked out, indicating the soiled jacket with his free hand

"No, no I did not," DeSoto replied, a bit proud of himself for being to control his gag reflex. This was the first time he had been thrown up on, and hopefully it would be a long time before it happened again.

"You might want to head to the men's room and clean up a bit; you got some on your t-shirt and in your hair," Johnny supplied helpfully, pulling a strand of his own hair to indicate the spot. He backed up quickly and out of his partner's way, as Roy glared at him and then charged towards the entrance.

"Hey, what do you want to do with your jacket?" Gage called out, stepping on the squishy pad of the doors to keep them open.

Roy shot him another nasty look over his shoulder and replied while still walking. "Toss it out!"

Johnny took a tentative step towards the pungent garment, hesitated, and then looked over at the attendant. "You heard him, all yours now!"

He grabbed the boxes out of the back and high tailed it after the other medic, choosing to ignore the fiery words flying after him as he escaped inside. He turned the corner and stalked towards the nurse's desk; not spying anyone in attendance there or either one of their patients in the hallway he sauntered over to the water fountain. He was slaking his thirst when the HT blared, asking for their status.

"Squad 51 available," he replied, abandoning the coolness of the water and grabbing his pen and notebook out of his pocket. He jotted down the address, grabbed the boxes he had set on the floor, and went searching for his partner. He found him exiting the men's room, wet t-shirt adhering to his body and water still dripping from his hair.

"We got a call," he explained, and they both turned and moved quickly towards the squad outside. "You can borrow my jacket if you want, instead of wearing your turnout coat."

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Roy replied glumly, thinking that he had used too much water on his shirt; he looked more like he was going to enter a wet t-shirt contest then a fireman. "Where we heading?"

"Sounds like some kind of reception place; woman in labor is the call."

"Reception place," he echoed, feeling a nasty foreboding settle in his still rolling stomach. "Let me see that address!"

He snatched the notebook still clutched in John's fingers, neatly dislodging the trauma box being held with the same hand; he caught the black case before it hit the linoleum tiled floor and absently tucked it under his arm as he flipped the cover open on the notebook.

"Oh no," he groaned, catching up to Gage who was already at their vehicle, stowing the biophone within the compartment. He shoved his box inside, scraping Johnny's hand with the latch in his agitation.

"Sorry, sorry," he stammered as the other man jerked his hand back with an exclamation and peered at the scrape. Roy reached for it, Johnny neatly slapped the outstretched appendage away, and climbed into the squad. Sighing heavily, the older man gently shut and locked the compartment door, and went around the back of the truck to get in the other side.

After strapping on his helmet, he picked up the jacket that had been laid on the bench seat for him. Struggling into it, he wrinkled his nose at the still present odor of, well, bodily fluids clinging to him. His perfect day was evaporating as fast as his good mood.

"Let me guess, it's where your family is, right?" Johnny asked, risking a fast glance sideways at his brooding partner.

"Yes….sorry about your hand."

"Just a scratch, no big deal. It's not bleeding much…yet." He laughed, letting Roy know in his odd way that it had already been forgotten.

Silence reigned over the interior as they sped towards the address, each man lost in the logistics of the call ahead as well as the personal aspect of it. When they pulled into the spacious parking lot of the one story building, Roy made a little noise of recognition as he spied his wife's station wagon; a hiss of air escaping between his clenched teeth was the response to the sight of the Oldsmobile belonging to Jo's parents. The brief hope that the dreaded woman would not be in attendance was dashed as he viewed the mammoth piece of metal and chrome; he pushed the uncharitable thought to the deep recesses of his brain as he followed Gage up the winding sidewalk to the side entrance.

"Wonder who's having a baby?" Johnny asked curiously, opening the door and instantly sneezing as he was engulfed in swirls of tobacco smoke. "I betcha the poor ventilation in here brought the labor on…"

"Maybe….." Roy agreed somberly, hoping that the smell of the cigarette, cigar, and pipe smoke would cover up the various stinks emitting from his body and clothes. "I have no idea who's pregnant. I would say it's one of the guests."

"Geez, it's not JoAnne is it?" A wide eyed, innocent look followed the question, and DeSoto stumbled, nearly falling into a round, festively adorned table in his astonishment.

"Of course not!" He blurted out, dodging around another table and following the crooked path Gage was instinctively weaving towards the group of people gathered in a tight knot at the other side of the room. "Don't you think I would have told you something like that?"

"Dunno, we really haven't known each other that long, ya know."

"Well, she didn't look pregnant to you when you met her at your birthday party, did she?" Roy huffed out, not sure whether to be angry at Johnny for his insensitivity and ignorance, or thankful for the welcome distraction. "That was less than two months ago!"

"Oh yeah, right, so it was. Unless of course, she doesn't show until her last month or so?" The glance backwards this time included a wink, and the older paramedic realized with an abrupt but pleasing jolt that his single but apparently sensitive partner was purposely trying to distract him from the thought of the pending encounter with Ruth.

He snorted in feigned irritation and then smiled. "Nah, she isn't one of those women."

"Good to know." There was no more light hearted conversation as they were on the outskirts of the group of guests now and Johnny had to slow his rapid trot to a dignified walk. The nicely attired people began to part like the sea as they worked their way through.

A pair of high heeled white shoes, a bit of nylon clad legs, and some lacy cream colored fabric was Roy's first glimpse of the laboring woman; he blinked rapidly as the rest of her came into view and he came to the startling realization that the pregnant woman was the bride. She was lying on the floor, with her head and shoulders being supported upright by her new husband Todd; he was sitting behind her and whispering in her ear between her short bouts of screaming and panting.

"Uh, Roy, I think I better check her out, ok?" Johnny asked, subtly motioning towards her with his free hand while bumping the frozen medic forward with his shoulder.

"Good idea," Roy stammered, not relishing the idea of being introduced to the new sister-in-law with his hands and head buried beneath her dress. He politely pushed his way forward to Todd, purposely keeping his eyes focused on the bride and groom. A quick glance had shown him that Ruth was standing several feet away from her son on the other side, balancing a heaping plate of food in one ringed adorned hand and gesticulating wildly with the other.

"Roy!" A very welcoming voice jerked his attention to the right and he caught a glimpse of his wife before she was obscured by the form of a rather large woman he didn't recognize; he would certainly have remembered the riot of auburn curls piled high on her head and tumbling in different directions over her round shoulders. The bold geometric pattern of her dress made him dizzy for a moment before he collected himself and finally stumbled to a one kneed crouch beside the panting woman.

His name was said again, this time by Jo's brother, who was ecstatic to see him but also seemed a bit drunk. He introduced him to his bride, Kim, and then quieted down enough for the medic to do his job. He could feel Johnny's rather impatient gaze settling on him from where he knelt near her feet, opened and ready OB box off to the side.

"Don't let him cut the dress, it's borrowed!" Kim entreated, clutching at Roy's arm with bronze talons. Todd, apparently feeling left out, grabbed him also, almost tipping him over with the tugging.

"Right, that's no problem," Gage replied easily, leaping to his feet and disappearing for a moment. He came back with a white tablecloth, which he covered her with from the waist down, preserving her modesty as he began folding the voluminous skirt of the dress upwards.

The crowd of guests closing in on the bride and groom began to reluctantly disperse and once again Roy heard the stern but polite voice of JoAnne asking the people to go back to their seats or enjoy the buffet. Rather like a drill sergeant, he mused with pride, with impeccable manners. He could hear a band warming up on the other side of the hall over the fading sound of conversations and was finally able to talk with Kim without having to yell.

"Have you timed your contractions? How far about are they?" Silence and blank looks met his request and he smiled. "Don't worry; I'll do that for you."

As he stared at his watch, waiting for the next contraction, he was aware of a pair of shoes coming to stand directly opposite him; a pair of thick ankles led up from the square toed, sensible shoes and his eyes refused to go any further than the sagging nylons. He knew without a doubt that those sensible shoes belonged to his formidable mother- in-law and that something was about to occur that he wasn't going to like.

"Mr. DeSoto, so glad that you could make it to Todd's wedding," she purred, sarcasm dripping from every word. Her nostrils flared delicately. "And that smell, what is that smell?"

Swallowing hard, he resisted the urge to growl and bark; instead he just nodded once in acknowledgement as the next contraction was beginning and he didn't want to lose his time. As for the rancid odor wafting from his shoes and the rest of him, he wasn't about to reply to that question. When he finally lifted his head, the woman had adopted her battle stance; this usually involved her hands placed strategically on her hips, her body leaning forward, and her face set in a furious scowl. This time, because of the plate of food, she could only do the leaning and scowling.

With a reassuring smile at the expectant parents and a murmured "You're doing just fine" he rose to his feet, straightening the stethoscope around his neck. He felt a breeze stirring the cloying thickness of the air and felt rather than saw Gage go breezing by. He followed him around the couple, smirking inwardly as his astute partner forced Mother Ruth back a few steps by inserting himself between her and Kim.

"Hey, you've going to be able to enjoy your reception after all. It's just false labor," Johnny explained cheerily, sliding his inside out gloves deep within his pants pockets and shifting the bundle of bunched up tablecloth under his arm.

"You mean I'm not going to have the baby right now?" Kim asked incredulously, her heavily made up eyes blinking in disbelief. She glared up at her husband, and grabbed the lapel of his tux. "It's all your fault!"

"What do you mean, it's all my fault? It takes two to tangle, you know!" He slurred back, scooting out from behind her and taking his drink that had been hidden under his leg with him. Roy threw out a hand to keep her from falling backwards now that her support had departed; she grabbed it with both her hands and lumbered clumsily to her feet. She stood for a moment, smoothing down the front of her embroidered and lacey dress and breathing heavily through her mouth instead of her nose. Her contractions had ceased, at least for the moment.

She laced her fingers under the protruding bulge of her stomach and looked at Roy. "You're JoAnne's husband, right?"

At his affirmative nod she sighed and shifted her speculative look towards John. "Too bad, and you, whose husband are you?"

Johnny shifted uneasily and backed up a step. "I'm um..."

"Not your husband, young lady!" A sharp voice broke in and all heads turned towards Ruth, who had been momentarily forgotten and had inserted herself into the picture again. "False labor, indeed, are you even pregnant?"

There was a stunned silence while everyone stared at the self-imposed matriarch of the family; she wasn't quite done with her accusations. "You wanted to trap poor Todd, didn't you? A man with a wonderful job, climbing the ladder to success, while you, you probably have a pillow stuffed up there!"

"No ma'am, she's really pregnant," Johnny piped up, innocently stepping into the middle of her rant; the rest of the immediate family knew enough to let her continue until she ran out of steam. A soft sigh ran through the handful of adults clustered together and Roy moved over several feet to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brave but naïve partner.

"And who are you, young man? Who asked for your opinion?" The ringed fingers were waving wildly and then started jabbing towards Gage's chest as she steamed towards him. Johnny resolutely stood his ground but his crooked smile faltered as she ground to a halt an inch away, one finger now tapping his nameplate.

"J. Gage, I should have known. Oh, I have your number young man, I surely do! A paramedic, pah! Just a whelp masquerading as a doctor, just like that so called son-in-law of mine who thinks…"

Roy tuned out the rest of the tirade; he had heard it all before. What he was concerned about was the fact that Gage had started backing up, unwilling to lay a hand on the woman and unable to get a word in edgewise. Behind him was the table that held the wedding cake, a three tier concoction dripping with swirls and flowers of chocolate, the requisite plastic bride and groom perched on top.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife and her sister approaching at a rapid pace, but not quick enough to stop what was inevitable. The wildly garbed woman was also closing ranks, shaking her head in disgust and also waving a hand. A jolt of recognition shot through him at the familiar and dreaded gesture; it had to be Ruth's sister. He could only hope that she was the opposite of her sister or else they were about to be besieged from both sides.

"Ok, Ruth, that's quite enough," he interrupted calmly, stepping forward so that he was once again next to his flustered partner. Somehow they had to remain professional; they were in uniform after all. This whole situation was new and awkward because he'd never had to deal with his own family before while on a run.

"Indeed it is!" She screeched, her free arm flinging towards Gage and her plate laden arm swinging towards Roy in wild abandonment. As if in slow motion, the food flowed towards him, ham the prominent ingredient in the hodgepodge of smells wafting under his flaring nostrils. His stomach, which had been threatening mutiny since the ambulance ride, finally gave up the battle and revolted. The spicy breakfast that had tasted so good going down, numerous cups of coffee and the last remnants of JoAnne's lovingly prepared meal made their second appearance in a flood of liquid and pieces – all over the outraged, heaving bosom of his mother-in-law.

The expression "die of embarrassment" or was it "die of shame" slithered through his brain cells even as he found himself going backwards, the plate of food sliding down his borrowed jacket in a beautiful trail of color as Mama Ruth completed the wide swinging arc of her hairy arm and shoved him. His last glimpse of her was a beet red face looking down at her equally brilliant colored dress; than he was staring up at ceiling tiles and feeling the welcoming softness of a pillow beneath his head and shoulders. His hand went back to see what a pillow was doing at a wedding reception and as his fingers trailed through the expensive, velvety texture of sugar and other mystery ingredients he didn't want to know about, all he could think about was that he was glad he wasn't alone in this little misadventure.

For somehow Johnny was next to him, cake splattered down the side of his face, and hand up to his lip feeling for damage. One of Ruth's ugly rings had apparently connected with skin, whether by accident or not they would probably never know. As if feeling his partner's look, Gage turned his head and stared back.

"You know, she was right about one thing….."

"What's that?"

"This is definitely an attention getting career choice, wouldn't you say?" Johnny snickered behind his cautiously probing fingers and Roy couldn't hide his own smile, ignoring for the moment the sour taste in his mouth, something metallic poking him in the back (silverware maybe?), and the nugget of cake that seemed to have lodged in his left ear.

He could hear the voices getting louder as the various relatives swarmed in; he hoped his wife was in the lead. He would never live this down, never in a million years, but somehow he knew that tomorrow morning when he returned home, his beautiful wife would be waiting with open arms and a smile as wide as the one Gage was displaying right now behind his swollen lip. Yep, he wouldn't trade this job for any other; life was indeed good.

~FINI~

 _A/N - this little one shot got out of hand and grew into a very long chapter - it was just amazingly easy writing about poor Roy and his misadventures leading up to the final encounter with the dreaded mother-in-law! Hope you enjoyed!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

The low murmur of voices drifted from the kitchen area of the dayroom within Station 51; the scuffing of shoes moving about, the soft thunk of china being set on the wood table, and the clinking of silverware and glass told John Gage that they were just in time for supper. He breezed into the room, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of chowing down on whatever smelled so good. He swore he could smell the tantalizing odor outside as he had backed the squad up the driveway.

His temporary partner Dwyer was right behind him, audibly sniffing the air like a coon dog hot on the scent of his prey. Marco did a little graceful two step to avoid running into the paramedics as he set down a platter of food, the steam lazily drifting upwards and dissipating into the air

Johnny grabbed a glass from the set table and opened the fridge door. Grabbing the milk, he bumped the door closed with his hip and turned around, pouring as he went. He downed the frothy liquid in several gulps and poured himself another glass.

"Now I know why we're always low on milk when we come on shift," Dwyer joked, pointing an accusatory finger towards the dark haired man.

Johnny swallowed and grinned, setting down the half full second glass and replacing the carton in the fridge. "Not me, I always make sure to leave some!"

"Enough to feed a cat, maybe," he griped, swinging into a chair. John sat next to him, eagerly studying what looked like a roast in front of him. Mashed potatoes, rolls, and the carafe of coffee rounded off the supper.

"How long you gonna be here, Dwyer?" Chet asked, grabbing the long bladed knife and reaching towards the meat. Marco snatched the platter back from the stretching hands and waggled his fingers toward the knife.

"Gimme," he commanded, and Kelly surrendered it with an exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, he'll be here in probably another hour or so," the fill in replied easily, spooning sugar into his mug and then splashing in the caffeine laden brew. He handed the silver pot to Chet who repeated the process sans the sugar.

"What's DeSoto up to, anyways?" This came from Lopez, who was slicing the beef with practiced motions.

Gage waved the coffee pot away as it completed its circle; Mike Stoker set it down on the table. A pause and Johnny answered after dropping his now buttered roll down onto his plate. "He's chauffeuring the in-laws to the airport, after a lengthy lunch with the rest of the extended clan."

"Is the mother-in-law even speaking to him?" Chet questioned, gleaming eyes following the progress of the roast carving. The eyes shifted to Gage as he choked and sputtered; Dwyer thumped him on his blue clad back.

"What do you mean by that?" He gasped out, finally grabbing his milk and taking a careful, small sip.

"Oh come on, Johnny, we all saw you and Roy when you got back from the wedding call last shift. In fact, your lip is still swollen from that broad whacking you one."

The paramedic's hand went up to touch his lip, which was still a bit puffy even after the lengthy icing it had been given. He winced – it still hurt too, probably due to the small cut. He regarded Chet over the edge of the glass still held in his hand, wondering how he knew the details of that little fiasco. He SURE hadn't said anything about it; at work, Roy's lips would be sealed even tighter than his own.

"Yeah, well, I guess that's between him and his family," he finally answered, itching to ask where the nosy parker had gotten his information but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Besides, he needed all his strength for when Roy did come back on shift right after having to drive the nasty bat to the airport. Johnny was pretty sure that his generally easy going partner was going to be in a foul mood when he stomped through the door. He sincerely hoped he wasn't but had no clue as to how forgiving the family was.

"Lopez, where's the color green, or even orange on the table?" Hammer asked, checking out the contents of the table as he joined his crew at the table and sat down.

"Oh right, right, thanks for reminding me Cap!" Marco did a fast shuffle over to the oven, checked the temperature knob, and whipped open the door. He pulled out a cookie sheet covered in foil and used a spatula to help slide the contents off into the waiting plate on the counter.

"What are those things?" Johnny wondered out loud, staring curiously as the cook of the day added the plate to the other receptacles already being passed around the table.

"Oh come on Gage, you're saying you don't know what asparagus is?" Kelly's voice was laced with disbelief; he stabbed four of the green stalks, or at least tried to and almost lost the whole plate into his lap.

"Kelly!" Dick Hammer growled, snagging the tipping edge and balancing the veggies before they upended all over the freshly mopped floor.

"Errr, sorry about that," Kelly apologized, meekly setting the plate down and helping himself to two spears this time, and then another two. The plate continued around until it stopped in front the frowning medic.

"No, I don't know what asparagus is; why do you think I asked?" He asked sarcastically, staring doubtfully at the vegetables lying innocently in front of him. "What do they taste like?"

"For heaven's sake, just try it and see!" Chet exclaimed, cramming a whole spear into his mouth and chewing, rolling his eyes in exaggerated enjoyment and moaning.

"Mmmmmmm…good, that's what's they taste like," the curly headed lineman mumbled around his food, to the accompaniment of "gross Chet!" and snickers from the men.

Johnny gingerly plucked one from the plate and held it between his thumb and forefinger. "They remind me of that little dude, Twig?"

At the puzzled looks being directed at him, Gage emphatically waved the spear. "You know, on that commercial about the vegetables, with the big green guy…uh, the Jolly Green Giant guy, and his little sidekick, Twig?"

Marco laughed, trying not to spray his mouthful of food out, and put up a hand to protect his face from getting bonked by the asparagus wielding paramedic. "Sprout, Johnny, Sprout. My little nephews and nieces all love those new commercials with the little guy."

"Right, yeah, Sprout, that's his name….." he conceded, finally taking a tentative bite of the slightly mangled stalk. The men at the table appeared fascinated by this taste testing; they all watched him, their own forks posed above their abandoned food.

"Hey, that's not half bad!" He finally decided, swallowing it down and chasing it with a swallow of milk. He tipped the serving dish and scooped some more onto his plate. "What's on it?"

"Just a little olive oil, pepper, and parmesan cheese," the chef answered, beaming like a proud parent as Gage ate two more pieces in rapid succession.

The meal was quickly disposed of with bits pf conversation laced through it, and another pot of coffee started. The tones remained mercifully silent throughout and cleanup commenced in the same efficient, if not quite as happy, manner.

Hammer disappeared back into his office while the two paramedics headed for the dorm and the chores that still awaited them from that morning. Stoker meandered into the bay while Chet and Marco finished clearing the table. Dishes were rinsed, the table wiped clean, and water ran into the right basin of the double sink.

"You know, Marco…." Chet began in a conspiratorial voice.

"What's that, Chet?" Marco asked, his own tone laced with suspicion.

"If Johnny boy didn't know what asparagus is, that also means….."

"Means what?" Impatience was now strong in the older man's actions, as he grabbed the glass out of his friend's hand and slid it into the soapy, water filled sink.

"He is not gonna know what the end results are….." Now the voice was filled with glee and an evil chuckle sprang from Chet's lips. Marco stared at him, the clean and dripping glass now hanging suspended from his hand. Chet snatched it and dried it with an exaggerated flourish.

"What does that…oh, oh I get you now!" Lopez plunged his hands into the water, groping for the next dirty item; finding nothing, he removed a hand and picked up another glass, regarding Chet thoughtfully. "Do you think we should tell him?"

Kelly shook his head. "Nah, he's a paramedic, he'll figure it out."

Marco nonchalantly shrugged and resumed his furious assault on the dirty dishes; once they got into their easy rhythm, they made short work of the task and settled comfortably on chairs to watch television.

~eeeEEEeee~

Roy strolled into the side door of the station, whistling an unusually good rendition of "I Feel the Earth Move under My Feet" by Carole King, and already attired in his uniform. Marco raised his eyebrows and looked at Chet.

"He doesn't sound too unhappy," he hissed, with lips barely moving. Chet responded with an upward roll of his eyes and turned slightly in his chair so that he could watch the paramedic's movements.

DeSoto, oblivious to the watching eyes, tested the coffee pot on the stove and snagged a mug out of the cupboard. He poured the steaming liquid in, replaced the pot on its warming burner, and turned around. He leaned back against the counter, shoved his left hand into his pocket, and casually sipped at the fresh brew. His eyes swept the room in a slow, mildly curious arc, before coming back to settle on the attentive linemen.

"Hey guys!" He cheerily called out, grinning and lifting his cup in a hello. "Where's Dwyer at?"

"He's making the beds like a good little medic," Chet groused, earning a curious look from the present medic. Marco couldn't help but wonder if his friend had a bet going with someone about the mood DeSoto was going to be in when he arrived for work. It sure wasn't him!

"Ok then, I'll go let him know I'm here."

Roy set his coffee down on the table and ambled leisurely out of the room, thumbs hooked through his front belt loops. If you gave him a gun belt and some boots he'd be ready for a showdown out in the middle of a dusty, wide street, Marco mused as he watched him leave. He looked back over at Chet, who was slouched down in his chair and staring vacantly at a commercial rolling across the black and white screen.

"So give, who did you make a bet with concerning DeSoto?"

Kelly snorted and assumed an innocent expression. "Me? Why would think that? Betting on someone's misery, what kind of guy do you think I am?"

Lopez shook his head in disbelief. "Rightttttttttt, and I think you protest a little bit too much!"

"Babe, you got me all wrong! How long have we known each other?" Kelly's voice was rising with each protesting word, and Marco glared at him, trying to stare him into quiet. That's all they needed - Hammer to come stalking in to see what all the excitement was about. Then Chet's goose would be cooked for sure, because somehow Lopez had a very strong feeling that their captain wouldn't condone station house betting, especially on other firemen; he didn't appear to have much of a sense of humor either. Hard to say with him, though, because he was pretty sure he had witnessed a smile crossing their leader's face when Gage had his hands up that girl's skirt on that vehicle accident several shifts ago.

"It's obviously much too long because I know you're not exactly telling me the truth!" He whispered, trying to get the hint across about the volume. Chet glared back but he was smiling.

"Look Marco, it was just a friendly little wager with…well, I'm just not saying since you seem to have your shorts bunched up in a wad….." he commented in a lowered voice. He leisurely laced his hands together, and laid them across his stomach.

Lopez shook his head and returned his attention to the program that was just starting.

~eeeEEEeee~

"Thanks again, really appreciate you staying over and covering for me," Roy said enthusiastically, clapping a hand on the other paramedic's shoulder with an equal exuberance. Dwyer winced and shrugged away from the friendly hand.

"No problem, DeSoto. So how did things go with your, ah, in-laws?"

"Oh, just fine, just fine," Roy responded, rubbing his hands together briskly, reminding the other man of an excited schoolboy.

Grinning, Dwyer pushed the pile of dirty bedding into the other's arms, which effectively stopped the hand motions. "See you later then!"

He exited the room via the door that led to the lockers and Roy heard him call out to Johnny on his way into the apparatus bay. A moment later Gage came into the room, a strange look on his face.

"Hey Roy, glad to see you made it," he said, but his voice didn't match his welcoming words. He dropped onto the end of the nearest bed and rubbed his face, ran a hand through his hair, and absently scrubbed at a finger. Roy stared at his obviously distracted and worried partner and deposited the mound of clothing he was still clutching onto the floor. He sat down on the bed next to John.

"Yeah, it went really well, I'll tell you about it in a little bit. But first, what's bugging you?"

Johnny squirmed a bit and finally looked up and in the general direction of Roy, but couldn't seem to meet his eyes. "Well, look, it's kind of embarrassing, weird maybe, but I just took a…"

His words were cut off by the klaxons calling the squad out to a response. The men jumped to their feet and walked briskly to their truck, Johnny almost running into DeSoto's back as he too headed for the driver's side. He whirled around, trotted between the vehicles, and jumped into the passenger side. They roared out of the garage and headed for the man down call.

~eeeEEEeee~

Less than an hour later they were on their way to Rampart, Roy riding in the ambulance with their victim, and Gage following in the squad. Once the man was safely in the hands of Dr. Morton, the older paramedic joined John at the supply station currently being manned by Dixie McCall. He snagged his counterpart by the arm.

"So what's the problem?" He queried, ignoring the murderous look tossed his way when the question caught Dixie's interest and she raised her head from perusing a patient's chart.

Johnny was turning a deep shade of red; he slapped a hand down on the counter nearly upsetting the coffee cup that was perched there. "I'm sure it's nothing, okay? Let's go Roy…."

He shrugged off the hand that was still on his arm, whirled, and took a giant step towards freedom; it was Dixie who stopped him in his tracks with the worry in her voice.

"Johnny? What's wrong?"

He turned slowly around, his eyes darting anxiously between the two people. He stepped back up to the desk and leaned in, which instinctively caused the nurse and the paramedic to huddle in also, so that the three heads were scant inches apart.

"Umm, it's just too embarrassing to talk about," he explained in a near whisper. He drew back, looking like he was on the edge of bolting once again; Dixie stopped the frantic movement with her hand, laying it on the young man's jacket clad arm.

"It's obviously something, otherwise you wouldn't be so uptight," she explained patiently and glanced over at Roy. "Isn't that right, Roy?"

"Yeah, come on John, you really are worrying about something. You're with friends here…what could be so embarrassing that you can't tell us?"

"Like I said, it's nothing." The nervous shifting of his feet were telling a different story, however; Roy gave a nod of understanding to the nurse and waved a hand in front of his partner's face to get his attention.

"Johhhhnnnnyyy," he said, purposely dragging out the name. "If you don't spill it, I'm going to go find Dr. Brackett and explain the situation. And you know as well as I do that he can, and will, pull you off duty if he thinks that it's warranted."

"Fine," Johnny hissed, throwing up his hands in surrender as possible humiliation quickly dissolved when compared to the thought of having Brackett corner him in an exam room. "But you, only you!"

Roy shrugged in indifference, smiled at Dixie as she rolled her eyes, and followed Gage down the hall. He gave a quick nod of hello to the passing Joe Early and wondered how much of that quiet conversation he had just heard. Probably hadn't heard much, at least not the near whispers that had floated out of Gage.

He thought they were headed for the privacy of the squad when the younger man stopped abruptly, spun around on his heel, and jerked a thumb towards the men's room they had just passed.

"I need to use the facilities first," he muttered, brushing past DeSoto. "Just to make sure…"

"What?" Roy asked, not sure if he had heard that last part correctly. "Make sure of what?"

But his colleague had already disappeared; Roy was concerned about him but not quite enough to follow him beyond the door. He waited, back against the wall and hands shoved into his pockets, trying to sort out what the problem could be. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Dr. Early. The distinguished doctor had apparently headed for the charms of Dixie McCall and the bracing lure of the coffee pot. He turned his head more to observe the pair better when the nurse's hands started making motions in the air, and one of those gestures included a finger pointing in his direction.

"Uh oh, John's not going to like this," Roy observed out loud. He made a rude noise when Mike Morton joined the duo and more hand waving commenced. Both doctors took a look in his direction, talked a moment longer, and then began a brisk walk towards him with Dixie right behind them.

"Hello Roy," Joe said amiably, glancing down the hall and then back at the paramedic. "Dix says that Johnny is worried about something."

"I suppose so," Roy admitted reluctantly. "He's in there, making sure of whatever it is….."

"He's in there?" Morton bellowed, his voice deepening in disbelief. Dr. Early threw out a hand to detain him when it looked like he was ready to fly through the door after the missing medic.

"Mike!" he admonished, giving him a fierce glare from under his eyebrows. Morton drew in a deep breath and stepped back.

"You're right, sorry, I overreacted. There's no way he's doing THAT in there…." he murmured, shaking his head. "Gage seems a bit out there, but not…"

"What?" Roy interrupted rudely, staring at the hospital personnel gathered around him like vultures around carrion. "What are you talking about?"

"It seems obvious, Roy, by the clues your partner is tossing about. He's obviously embarrassed about something of a very personal nature, won't talk about it in front of a lady, and disappeared into the bathroom after telling you he needs to confirm the problem…." Mike's voice was condescending, and DeSoto folded his arms to keep himself from punching the man. He now completely understood the scathing remark Johnny had made several weeks ago about the intern's attitude.

The door swung open and the subject of their discussion took a hesitant step forward. He looked curiously at the group blocking the door and his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he immediately understood why they were gathered there. He took a giant step back into the safety of the bathroom; Roy bolted in after him.

"Party going on out there?" Gage inquired sarcastically, giving his partner the evil eye.

"Look, I didn't have anything to do with that, and besides, if you would tell us what's wrong there wouldn't be all this guessing going on."

"What do you mean, guessing? Who's guessing what?"

"Uh…" Roy paused, sucking in his lower lip and worrying it between his teeth. "It's completely ridiculous, but Morton thinks you're having, um, intimacy problems?"

"Intimacy problems?" Johnny squeaked out. "As in, like, impotent? Me?"

He whirled around and braced himself against the sink with his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. DeSoto moved forward a cautious step and was glad that he did when the door opened behind him and missed him by an inch. Dr. Early inserted himself through the opening just in time to hear the howl of laughter that erupted from the younger paramedic.

"Oh man, can you imagine that? For crying out loud, I still get zits like a teenager, and the hormones that…..Roy!" Gage's voice shot up an octave and he spun around, eyes widening in horror as he grabbed his partner by the shirt. "You didn't tell that group of vultures out there that I was in here checking out my uh, problem, did you?"

DeSoto swallowed hard and felt the heat rising up his neck. "Ah well, I did kinda imply….."

"Oh my God, can this get any worse," Johnny groaned, releasing his grip and smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand. A flushing toilet seemed to be his reply; three heads turned in unison to the closed door of the single stall that was slowly opening. A louder groan accompanied by a heartfelt obscenity escaped the medic as Dr. Kelly Brackett appeared and strolled nonchalantly to the sink. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly and dried them with a paper towel before turning to look at Gage, who had retreated to the tiny space of bare wall next to the exit. Joe was effectively blocking the door with his body, keeping the medic pinned inside while also preventing anyone from entering.

"What's the problem, John?" Brackett asked sternly, crossing his arms and daring the young man to answer "nothing".

Johnny glanced at Roy, took in the slight shake of his partner's head, and bit back the retort that was about to fly from his lips. He sighed. "Look, it's just that when I pee, it smells weird."

There was a few seconds of silence as the men contemplated his words. Dr. Early looked down at the rings on his finger, twisted the gold bands, and then looked back up. "There could be a number of reasons for that, John, like a change in medications, stress, new foods….."

Johnny threw out his hands in an impatient gesture. "No, no new meds or vitamins or anything like that…..no more stress than usual, and as for food, well, let's see….coffee, toast and eggs for breakfast…..and roast beef, rolls, milk, mashed potatoes for lunch…"

"That's it? Nothing else?" Kelly inquired, relaxing his stance somewhat as he realized the effect he was having on the obviously embarrassed man.

"Wait, I had some of those green things too, weird looking stalks like that commercial on television?"

Early shrugged and shot a questioning look at Roy, who in turn looked at his partner. "I don't know, I wasn't at the station during lunch, and I don't watch television all that much…green beans, celery, broccoli, peas…."

"Asparagus…" the head of the ER guessed, snapping his fingers and then rudely pointing one of the digits at Gage. "It was asparagus, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's it, asparagus! Pretty good stuff….." he trailed off as he gazed at the medical personnel, the wrinkle of worry across his forehead smoothing out. "So that's it, that's what causing the funny smell?"

"It is indeed, John," Dr. Early replied, his lips curved in a tiny smile that he didn't bother to hide. "It's the acids in that vegetable breaking down in your body and is completely normal."

"Wow, that's pretty far out, a funky vegetable doing stuff like that. I thought something was really wrong with me." The relief was strong in his voice as Johnny moved away from the wall and rubbed his hands briskly together, waiting for the other men to move out of the room. They filed out, grins in place.

The doctors split away from the paramedics and sauntered down the hall back towards the supply station, where Dixie had once again taken up residence on her stool. Morton was leaning on the counter, bowed head resting on a propped hand and looking thoroughly chastened as he listened to something she was saying.

Roy glanced at Gage to see if he had noticed the intern's subdued posture; he found instead that his partner was studying him with interest.

"What?" He asked, a bit annoyed at the obvious scrutiny.

Johnny gave a little shake of his head as they walked through the automatic doors and stopped by the side of their truck. "I was wondering how you managed to stay in one piece after spending half the day with your piranha mother-in-law. And to top it off, you're in a good mood?"

"Oh, that," DeSoto replied with a smile, thinking of his wonderful, brilliant wife and how she should be some kind of diplomatic liaison for the government, or something like that. She was that good; he had witnessed that firsthand this morning. He circled around the front of the squad and leaned through the open window to smirk at his partner. "Well, maybe someday when you're old enough, Junior, I'll tell you all about it."

Johnny's mouth dropped open in astonishment as he processed Roy's words; Roy grinned even wider as he dropped into the seat and started the truck, revving the engine to break up the frozen state his partner was in. "Let's go partner, I hear some leftovers calling my name, especially that asparagus!"

 _A/N: yes, that's pretty much a true story involving the asparagus – I was about the same age when I ate it for the first time and experienced the end results – luckily I didn't have time to freak out about the funky vegetable as my friend and coworker made an offhand comment about it and solved my unasked questions. In my strange little mind, the experience just sounded like something Johnny would freak out about. "Twig" is also my name for that little fellow Sprout that used to be on the commercials with the Jolly Green Giant._


	4. Chapter 4

_An odd little story that started out as a Halloween tale and exploded into a very long, kinda, sorta Christmas story with some strange humor….usual disclaimers apply!_

 _ **Chapter 4**_

"Because I promised, that's why," the dark-haired paramedic muttered sulkily, looking down at the ground and scuffing his foot sideways. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath, and straightened up in determination. "It's for the little kids, see? And it will be fun!"

DeSoto scowled, thinking that it sounded like his partner was trying to convince himself that it would indeed be a barrel of laughs. "I'm just wondering how Captain Hammer is going to react to the fact that you volunteered him, as well as the rest of us, into dressing up like a giant bug and giving up one our days off."

"Caterpillars ARE NOT giant bugs; they're…...just what the heck are they?" Gage abandoned his stiff pose and relaxed into a more natural position, letting the brick apparatus wall behind him support his weight as he slouched against it and scratched at his jaw in thought.

"I don't know, just something that likes to eat a lot, especially in my garden. And just how did you get talked into doing this?"

Johnny snapped his fingers, still bugged about Roy's insult. "Insects, that's what they are!" He paused, and then sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. "It was, er, ah, Dixie that asked me; you know I can't ever say no to her."

"No, I didn't know that, and why is that exactly?" He really wanted to ask him why, or how, Gage knew Dixie so well that she had thrown him a birthday party, but it didn't seem like the time. Although depending how this question was answered, maybe he would find out.

Another shrug and Johnny just smiled. "It doesn't matter. She's a nice lady and I like to help her out."

"Ok, fine, but please tell me why we have to be a giant caterpillar?" Roy asked, disappointed in John's glib answer. He followed him into the kitchen and watched as the younger man pulled out the half gallon of milk and poured a glass. He shook his head when he was offered some and waited impatiently.

"Mm, that hits the spot!" Gage smacked his lips together and pulled out a chair, dropping into it with a sigh. "A couple of reasons really…. see, there's a group of kids up in the pediatric ward that are there for a week at least, some of them a lot longer. Dix goes up there and has like a story time thing, where she reads them books. When she can't make it, she arranges for someone else to do it, usually one of her nurses. You with me on this so far?"

"Yeah, I'm following you," DeSoto replied, joining him at the table with a cup of coffee. He poured some sugar into it, stirred it with a spoon, and leaned back in his chair, nodding to try and get the story moving along.

"So, they read this little book involving a hungry caterpillar and the kids, mostly the younger ones you know, like it so much they want her to read it every day. And Dixie decides to combine their love of the book with a little surprise with Christmas coming up and all, and voila, there's where we come in."

"Where exactly did she find a costume that involves six men to wear it?"

"No idea, I just know that someone had one and she's borrowing it. It's pretty simple really, we just go up to their ward and walk around the room a few times and we're done. A couple of hours max of everybody's time, and we're out of there."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Roy agreed, thinking that kids did indeed enjoy that book, his young son included.

"Well, there's only one thing though," Johnny hedged, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Roy groaned and slapped at his forehead. "I should have known there was going to be a "but' to this. Go on, spill it Junior!"

A frown appeared at the use of the nickname, but Johnny valiantly continued. "Ah, it's not that bad really. It's just that Dixie wants us to wear pants that go with the costume. She has the material; they just need to be made. You think maybe the three wives would consider sewing them up?"

"Cap's wife, mine, and Mike Stoker's…I don't know, John. JoAnne likes to sew, but I don't know about the other two. I guess that's another thing that you're going to have to ask Hammer about." Roy's tone was thoughtful, but there was an evil gleam in his eye as he gazed across the table.

"Yeah, right," Gage murmured, wondering if maybe he should have thought this through a little more before volunteering their whole shift. The sound of the garage door going up caught his attention and he took a deep breath, firming up his resolve. "I sure hope they had an easy run…"

Eyebrows quirked up, DeSoto just smiled and watched his younger partner take several deep breaths. A gulp of milk and Gage rose to his feet, determination in his movements. He had made it to the door when the first of the engine crew stepped into the room, reeking of smoke.

"Nice of you guys to join us," Chet Kelly quipped, purposely bumping a dirty shoulder into the paramedic as he swaggered past.

"We just got back from our own run, Kelly," Johnny replied evenly. "Was yours a bad one?"

"Nah, just a lot of burning stuff," the lineman teased, grabbing the pot on the burner and pouring himself a cup of liquid tar. He sputtered as he tasted the vile brew and dumped the contents of both the mug and the pot into the sink. "Guess you weren't fibbing when you said you just got back; this stuff has been cooking for hours."

He looked pointedly at Roy's half-filled mug sitting on the table and grimaced before turning back around to start a fresh pot of coffee. Gage, his attention on the bay and the noises issuing from there, swung his head around and looked at Chet's back.

"Say Chet, what kind of mood is Captain Hammer in?"

"Geez, I don't know, perhaps a captain mood?"

"Real funny there, Kelly…" The dark-haired man looked over at his partner, who wiggled his fingers at him and motioned towards the door.

"Right, right," Johnny mouthed and strolled resolutely through the opening and disappeared from sight.

~eeeEEEeee~

"He said it was a good idea, and he actually volunteered his wife for the sewing?" Roy's tone of voice proclaimed disbelief and John simply nodded; his own incredulity at Hammer's easy acceptance was still fresh in his mind.

"He did, and said his wife would contact your lady and Mike's, and coordinate that part of the, uh...…. volunteering." He swung the wheel of the squad sharply, avoiding the unrecognizable thing in the road as they headed back to the station after a run.

"Okay, good, so Mrs. Hammer is going to take things in hand on that side, but what about telling the rest of the guys?"

Johnny didn't answer for a moment as he checked the traffic, and then commenced backing into the driveway. Once they were safely within the bay, he threw the gear shift into park and turned to Roy with a satisfied smile. "The Cap said he would handle that, catch the guys before they leave. We're going to set it up for the start of the next shift, the measuring part, if it works for the ladies."

DeSoto could only shake his head at Johnny's good fortune in securing their captain's blessing AND his help on this little venture, but it was for a good cause and he was happy to participate.

Which he reminded himself of several days later as the six men lounged in the day room, waiting for the three wives to coordinate their efforts. Mrs. Hammer had taken charge and was patiently explaining to Mike's wife on how to measure the men for the inseam. While Roy impatiently squirmed in his seat, Mike watched the proceedings with an amused smile.

"I don't think Connie has ever sewed," he confided in a low voice as his spouse dropped the yellow measuring tape and they watched the cloth roll unspool across the floor.

"Not even in those home economics classes?" Roy asked, thinking about the clothing that Jo had whipped up during her course. Of course, she had had plenty of experience before that; she had belonged to a sewing 4-H club.

Stoker rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, maybe there I suppose, but if she sews like she cooks..."

He snickered, hiding his burst of mirth behind his hand. Roy gave a little shake of his head to show that he understood but kept his own amusement contained. He wasn't about to laugh at the engineer's wife in any way, shape, or form. It was one thing to be tickled by your new spouse's antics, but it would be a whole different story if another guy laughed at her. He wasn't about to take that risk, especially with a man he really didn't know all that well.

"Mrs. Hammer really knows what she is doing, so I think it's safe to say that whatever Connie's shortcomings are the Captain's wife will make up for it," Mike mused. "Plus, it looks like your better half knows what she's doing…..."

This time DeSoto did smile; it was the most he had ever heard Mike say in one shot. "She does, and she enjoys it too. I have to admit, it was the one of the few good things she ever learned from her mother, well that and baking."

"Well, I guess it's true that everyone has at least one fine quality," Mike added with an even wider smile, standing up as the three women approached with tape measures in hand.

The measuring proceeded smoothly, at least with JoAnne and Mrs. Hammer. Roy's wife quickly took care of the paramedics while the boss's wife just as efficiently gathered the waist sizes and inseams for her husband and Chet. Connie Stoker, however, had an attack of the giggles while trying to get Mike's inseam; it took her several tries before she managed the deed and finally turned to Marco.

The Hispanic lineman nervously stepped backwards, his hands dropping instinctively to protect his sensitive parts. He wasn't sure if Mike had been fooling around or dead serious when he had let loose an unmanly screech while she had been measuring his inseam. "Uh, Mrs. Stoker, why don't I just get you my extra pair of uniform pants and let you measure them?"

"Nonsense! I practiced on Mike so I know exactly how to do it," the petite woman assured him, dropping down in front of him and stretching out the tape. A snicker of laughter floated across the space from Chet's direction; Stoker's narrow eyed glare instantly terminated the sound. A tiny whimper escaped Marco as Connie fumbled for a second with the measuring but then she rocked back on her heels in triumph, twirling the tape above her head like a lasso. "Got it!"

It was Johnny who laughed this time. Mike raised his eyebrows and shot the grinning paramedic a quizzical look. "Mike, you married yourself a great gal there, you know that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" The lanky engineer asked, crossing his arms and leaning menacingly towards his shorter counterpart.

Now it was Gage's turn to be confused. "Just what I said, man. She's got an incredible sense of humor, for starters."

"Oh, he's in deep," Chet chortled in a whisper, as he joined Roy at the coffeepot. "I'm not even close to the blissful state of matrimony and I know Gage just screwed up big time!"

DeSoto regarded him over the lip of his mug, his blue eyes sparkling. "As I remember it, you started it with that little giggle. I think Johnny is actually being complimentary towards Mrs. Stoker; he's just being extremely dense in how he's expressing himself."

He also thought Gage was extremely naïve in some ways when it came to women, even though he seemed to exude some serious charm on occasion, but there was no way he was going to say that word in front of Kelly. Like John, Roy believed Chet was behind the juvenile pranks that had begun to plague his partner and he was sure that somehow the Irishman would find some way to torment Johnny with this new ammunition.

A snort came from Kelly but he wisely shut up. They had missed whatever comment or action had ended the dialogue between the two men, who joined them at the counter with wide grins. Marco, his face flushed a lovely shade of red, was apparently finished with his measurements as he also joined them. He shook his head at Chet and elbowed him in the ribs, effectively stopping the eager comment about to erupt from his opened mouth.

Muttering something in Spanish under his breath, he glanced at the stove. "I could really use some coffee right now," he suggested hopefully, unable to reach an arm around or through the line of bodies blocking access to the burner.

"Sure thing…looks like they're about done?" Roy asked, nodding towards the ladies before grabbing a mug and filling it. Lopez snatched it greedily and noisily slurped a mouthful while pointedly ignoring the amused look shared between Roy and Chet.

All eyes shifted to the wives. Mike made a noise that sounded suspiciously like "uh oh" as Connie broke away from the other women and strolled leisurely towards them. She stopped about six feet away and scanned the five crewmen with wide innocent eyes. She did it again, slower this time, eyes raking across them; feet started shuffling as they shifted under the bold and uncomfortable scrutiny.

"Well now, boys," she drawled, a mischievous smile playing about her lips. "Does this remind you of anything?"

More uneasy movements as they traded wary glances. It was Chet who broke from the formation and went to stand by her, rubbing a thoughtful finger down the side of his cheek. "Oh, hey, it looks different from this angle…..I see where you're coming from Mrs. Stoker."

"Oh brother," Marco groused, casting a questioning look at Mike and an annoyed one in his friend's direction. "Mrs. Stoker?"

"You're single, Marco Lopez, so you should know what I am referring to, as should you and you!" She stabbed a manicured finger towards Johnny and then swung it towards Kelly, who was smirking now.

"Man, Mike…" Johnny started to say, then clamped his lips together and shook his head with a sheepish smile. "You're right, Mrs. Stoker, I guess we know how it feels now."

Connie smiled and leaned into her husband affectionately as he skirted the table and pulled her against him with a long arm. "Sorry, honey, I just couldn't resist with the way you were all standing there."

Roy threw up his hands in confusion. "Apparently everybody but me understands what just happened, would someone care to enlighten me?"

Johnny nudged him with a shoulder and grinned even wider. "It's been awhile since you were single, right?"

"A few years," he admitted with a cheerful smile and wishing it was even more. Getting married had been one of the best things he had ever done in his entire life. "But I still don't…"

"It's like when you walk into a bar and check out the chicks; that's what Mrs. Stoker is talking about," Marco interrupted in a rapid, low pitched voice which drew a slow but understanding "oh" from DeSoto. "You know, like a meat…"

Another interruption, this time from John. "I think he gets it now, Marco."

"Uhhh, I guess it has been awhile," the older paramedic admitted and purposely sauntered away from the two single guys still lounging lazily against the cupboards.

Johnny's lopsided grin was in full force as he shook his head at the rapid departure and rubbed his hands together. "This is going to be something to see."

"You got that right," Lopez agreed with a growl, lifting his mug to bury his face in it and hoping that Connie Stoker sewed better than she measured.

~eeeEEEeee~

Saturday rolled around with astonishing speed. The "A" shift had met up at the station to change into their new pants; Roy, Mike, and Captain Hammer had brought them with them. There was silence in the locker room as four of the men easily changed into the black, silky pants and donned their highly polished black work boots. They gathered in front of the sinks to stare at each other's legs – the material snuggly encircled their waists, puffed out at the knees, and narrowed to tight bands around their ankles.

"We look like we're wearing parachutes," Chet stated dubiously, fingering the material.

"Sounds like it too," Johnny added, heading towards the door with exaggerated strides and accompanied by the swishing, swooshing noise of nylon. He turned back around and glided back, the laughter overriding the sound of his approach. "I think they look more like those things the women wear in a harem."

Chet snorted. "How would you know? You've never gotten within ten thousand miles of that many women together at one time, let alone ladies wearing clothes like that!"

"Ha-ha, Chet, I'll have you know that I've seen them in person!" John declared, splaying a hand across his dark green t-shirted chest. Roy couldn't resist an eye roll at the gesture. It was becoming very familiar to him, that move Gage made whenever he wanted to get a point across. He looked down at his own matching t-shirt, which they were all wearing, and then at his own weird pants. JoAnne and Mrs. Hammer had done a good job of following the pattern; he had to admit that even though they looked and sounded funny, they were comfortable.

On the verge of asking his partner where exactly he had seen women in harem pants in Los Angeles, Roy glanced around as the absence of two of their crew suddenly hit him. "Hey, where are Stoker and Lopez?"

Whatever words about to erupt from Chet's mouth were silenced when a second later an odd ripping sound came from the direction of the second row of lockers. This was followed by an explosive word from Marco and Stoker's short laugh. By the time Chet and the two rescue men reached the aisle Mike had contained his vocal mirth and had his back turned to the sputtering lineman.

"What's the problem Marco?" Captain Hammer asked, strolling leisurely around the corner and bestowing his somber stare on the flustered man.

Marco threw up his hands. "It's these pants, Sir, they're not sewn together, and they're…what is this stuff Stoker?"

"Umm, I believe it is called Velcro, or actually hook and loop fasteners is probably the correct term," the engineer choked out, his shoulders shaking as he tried to bite back his laughter. "Connie just couldn't get the sewing part down, so she used that instead."

"It's even on the ankle hems?" Roy asked incredulously, as he and Johnny gathered around Mike to inspect to inspect her sewing, or lack of; the captain and Chet casually pushed Lopez back against his locker to check out his pants.

"Well no, she actually borrowed some of my duct tape to finish off that part," Mike confided with a smirk, planting a foot on the bench so they could see the hem of his pants. They were indeed taped up on the bottoms with silver duct tape (on the insides thankfully) while the hook and loop tape ran up both the inner and outer seams of the legs. Neither paramedic was brave enough to inquire what was holding the pants together at the waist.

"Wait, now, what did she use to fasten this weird stuff to the material?" Gage asked, plucking the seam at Stoker's knee in curiosity.

Stoker snickered in embarrassment and jutted his knee out for closer inspection. "Ah, she used some sort of fabric glue."

That admission got the attention of Dick Hammer. "Glue, how did she do that?"

"Not really sure, all I know is that when I got home from shift she had them done."

"Knock it off Chet!" Marco snarled, knocking away his friend's hands from the pants. Kelly thrust out hands, palms out, in an innocent gesture but stepped back a cautious distance.

"I just wanted to see for myself how they came apart," Chet proclaimed, wiggling fingers and adopting a villainous expression.

"Cap, we need to get going. Dixie has a friend who 's going to meet us in the parking lot with the costume," Johnny said, interrupting the curly headed lineman's cackling noises as he advanced towards Marco once again.

"All right, knock it off Kelly," Hammer instructed sternly, passing a hand over his face to hide his smile. "Let's get going men…"

They trooped single file out of the locker room into the bay, laughter intermixing with the silky sound of material. The lineman from "C" shift intercepted them, casting puzzled looks at their outfits.

"Hey guys, some chick dropped these off for Gage," he explained, thrusting a plastic wrapped plate towards Johnny who accepted the proffered offering warily.

"What chick was that?" He asked as he lifted the edge of the wrap to see what was concealed underneath.

"Eh, Melissa, Mildred, something like that, her name started with an "M"? She said you really helped her out when their van went over an embankment. And let me tell ya that was one foxy chick! Long blonde hair and legs, uh….." Bailey stumbled to a verbal halt and dropped his hands that were sketching a shape in the air as he caught the narrow eyed stare the "A" shift captain was bestowing upon him. He shrugged and mumbled something before disappearing around the front of the Crown.

Chet purposely bumped into Johnny, trying to get a look at the plate now encircled with a protective arm. "What are those, brownies?"

"Yep, with what looks an inch of chocolate frosting, so back off Kelly…." he ordered, using his other arm to push the inquisitive man back; they ducked and then exited into the back parking lot out of the half opened garage door.

Having agreed beforehand that they would all be able to fit into John's van, they piled into the depths of the camper with Captain Hammer riding shotgun. The driver snatched a huge brownie and passed the plate off to their leader, who repeated the process and then offered the sweets to the back passengers. Roy, seated in the single seat, quickly stood up and snagged it. He grinned sheepishly as he took the largest treat left and handed the plate to Mike, who was lounging on the bench seat.

"My breakfast," he mumbled around a mouthful of gooey richness. Mike laughed and after taking a piece, offered the last chunk to Marco, who accepted it with eagerness.

"I need the sugar to make it through this," he explained; he rolled his eyes pointedly towards Stoker and slapped at his pants.

A curly head popped up from behind the seat. Chet, being the last one in, had obtained the dubious honor of having the small storage area all to himself, people wise anyways. He was sitting on a rolled up sleeping bag and his hand was resting on tent poles, and various pieces of camping gear were under his boots. He poked his head between the two men and stared at the empty plate. "Hey, what gives? You guys ate them all?"

Lopez leaned away as fingers reached for the brownie still untouched in his hand. "There was only five, amigo, so you lose."

"Not fair…you could have split one or left me some big crumbs," Chet complained, grabbing for balance as Gage barreled out of the station parking lot and accelerated, shifting through the gears rapidly. He blew out a frustrated breath and dropped back out of sight as the remaining brownie found its way into his partner's mouth.

Marco, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel storing nuts, decided that the younger paramedic was channeling some of his nervous energy into his right foot; he tilted sideways as they flew around a corner and barreled down the road. After a delay to assist an elderly couple with their flat tire, thirty minutes later they came to an abrupt stop in the visitor's parking lot of Rampart. With exaggerated care, Lopez inched out the bus and with an odd, stiff legged gait shuffled over to the side of the large cargo van Johnny had parked next to. The door was open, and the men were staring within the interior.

"Wow," was all that the usually talkative Kelly could muster as they took in the sight of the giant caterpillar stretched out in a circle, the huge head staring at them with oval green eyes.

"That's totally far out!" Johnny exclaimed, leaning forward and running a hand over the fabric of the long body.

"Glad you think so, you fellows must be the firefighters from Station 51." A tall, incredibly thin man strolled around the front bumper and introduced himself as Phil Hawkins, Dixie's friend. Handshakes and greetings followed and then instructions on how to operate the poles and walk within the snaking costume.

"It reminds me of those dragons in the Chinese New Year festivities," Mike observed, tilting his head and scrutinizing the caterpillar. "Since I'm tallest, I probably should be the leader."

"Sorry Stoker, the leader is going to be the leader. You be in the middle; that'll give our bug some height. Kelly, you stand between me and our giraffe of an engineer. Lopez, Gage, and DeSoto – fall in line after the Stokes."

Chet's mouth dropped open at the odd language their captain was using; was he the only one that had noticed the pretty much insulting nicknames casually bestowed on their engineer? He looked around him at his crewmates and scratched his curly mop in consternation.

Gage was busy blatantly arguing with Hammer about bugs versus insects, Marco was doing deep knee bends while pulling on the fabric of his pants, Mike was muttering under his breath about too many uneven humps in their costume and the ratio of something versus something, and Roy was…..

"Roy!" He poked the upward looking man in his ribs, waited a second and then repeated the gesture when he was ignored. The medic slowly turned and blinked at him.

"Yes? Did you need something?"

Kelly snagged him by the shirt when it appeared DeSoto was about to resume his cloud gazing. "What the heck are you doing? What's so interesting up there?"

Roy smiled lazily. "It's a beautiful day, Mr. Kelly, and I'm enjoying all the little animals running around up there."

"The wha….?" Kelly sputtered, chancing a fast look upwards just in case there were little animals gallivanting around. "Oh come on, now you've got me doing it!"

The medic bestowed a look on him that Kelly could only describe as placid; it was accompanied by a slow roll of the shoulders, a kind of half shrug. "People see things differently, Chester."

"Uh huh, sure they do," the lineman replied, fascinated but also concerned at the atypical behavior going on around him. Their captain and Johnny were now laughing hysterically at something, and as Kelly focused on the pair Hammer did a little jig, apparently demonstrating something.

"Jeepers creepers," Chet whispered, his hand furiously rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to remember the last time he had seen people, folks he knew well, acting similar to this. "Oh, no way, no way, no way, that can't be right!"

He dashed around the back of John's van and yanked open the door, searching for the plate that held the brownies. It held no crumbs however and he tipped it up in frustration, freezing when he saw the writing on the bottom. It read "Thanks for rescuing us, Johnny, enjoy the wild ride!"

"Ah crap, it is true, they're all…"

His revelation was interrupted by Stoker's commanding voice bellowing across the parking lot. "Kelly, fall in line! This caterpillar is moving!"

Chet slammed the door closed and sprinted back around the white van, heading for the huge head of the insect and the man who could stop the debacle before it got any worse.

"Captain Hammer!" He called out, sliding to a halt beside the first pair of legs, visible from the knees down, under the costume.

"Get in your position, Kelly, whatever it is it can wait." The muffled command of his captain filtered out from under the material; despite his anxiety Chet was impressed by Hammer's dexterity as he whipped the head around to stare at him. The thing was kinda big, but it was cute and not scary which would definitely be a hit with the kiddos.

"Cap, those brownies…." A hand grabbed him by the arm and towed him backwards; he couldn't help letting out an indignant squawk as his important flow of information was interrupted.

Hey!" He protested again as he was pushed into position behind Hammer; he ducked under the reinforced fabric to avoid getting tangled up. He gulped as a pole was shoved into each hand and he was given a repeat but condensed 30 second tutorial by their usually silent engineer on how to operate them, as well as how to walk and see.

His mouth hanging open in shock, Kelly felt Stoker slide by and switch places with whoever was holding up the bug behind him. Phil Hawkins, as it turned out, as he stepped to the side and instructed the men in a booming voice to head for the freight elevator.

Another voice rang out which sounded suspiciously like Gage's. "Giddy up there little cateeeepillllllllarrrrrr!"

Chester groaned as Dick Hammer whooped and started the forward movement of the many pairs of legs. He was grateful he was second in line as he was sure the zigging and zagging was far worse at the end of the line, similar to that stomach bending crack the whip game. As it was, it required all of his concentration to keep the poles moving and walk behind the rapidly moving captain without falling flat on his face.

He was grateful for the fact that they were winding their way through the wide empty hallway accessed through the service entrance. He couldn't even imagine having to navigate the busy hallways of the Emergency department with all its bustling people and obstacles, or trying to slink their way through the narrower halls that led from the hospital's main entrance. The one great advantage of the costume was that it allowed them almost complete anonymity, and with all the odd noises coming from behind him via his colleagues Chet was pretty sure once they entered the populated sections of the hospital they would have a captive audience trailing alongside. There was no way he wanted anyone to know who he was what with all the giggling, snorting, and creative sounds emitting from the human factor of Gage's giant insect.

Dixie's friend had moved ahead of them and called for the elevator. The long caterpillar snaked its way inside with Hammer positioning himself facing the back doors. They formed a tight serpentine circle behind him but still bumped up against the padded walls as they jostled to fit inside and not damage the caterpillar. Phil pulled the straps, closing the pair of doors they had entered, and slapped the button.

As the freight elevator slowly rose, Johnny's laughter cut across the noisy melee. "Marco, man, you're splitting your pants!"

A sudden silence filled the cramped space at the unexpected words. Marco let loose a colorful curse, trying to peer over his shoulder to see the damage without dropping the poles.

"Where, Gage, where?" He asked, contorting his body and feeling a slow burn crawl up his neck and travel up his face as he remembered the orange silk boxers he was wearing.

"Down both sides of your legs, I can see orange…wait, are you wearing orange shorts?" John was giggling now and Lopez gritted his teeth, hoping nothing else split to reveal the grinning jack-o'-lanterns adorning the fabric across his rear and, uh, front.

"My girl gave them to me for Halloween, a joke okay?" He explained, finally giving in to a wide, white teethed grin despite his embarrassment. The laughter was infectious and he felt an unexpected bubble of mirth welling up.

"Phil, can you cut the elevator for a moment and trade places with me?" Stoker's strong, authoritative voice rang out and the car jolted to a stop as Hawkins acquiesced without question.

Marco shifted uneasily as the engineer knelt down and inspected his pants.

"Oh yeah, whatever Connie used to hold the tape on….." Mike said, reaching into the sole pocket of his own pants and pulling out his wallet. His nimble fingers pulled out a tiny cellophane packet; the caterpillar jiggled than dropped in height as Johnny bent over to peer at the contents, amusement momentarily contained.

"You carry thread and a needle with you?" he queried in amazement as Mike held up the needle towards the overhead lighting and deftly threaded it.

"Oh sure, I have both white and thankfully black thread. You just never know when you're gonna need it. Hold still Marco while I put a few stitches in on both sides to keep the seams from splitting anymore. Good thing I carry the bigger needles with me."

The lineman froze, trying to control the nervous laughter that had finally escaped in the form of tiny snickers. He felt curiously light headed and euphoric; of course it didn't help that Gage had started in again with his annoying but still contagious cackling. The noise within the metal box was growing once again what with the elevator letting off shrill dings of protest at being stopped for so long, Chet practically shouting at Hammer who was completely ignoring whatever he was being told, and DeSoto, well, DeSoto singing a show tune about a few of his favorite things. His voice was actually pretty good and Marco involuntarily relaxed, humming a bit as he recognized the song. So relaxed, in fact, that when Mike stood up and clapped his hands sharply the Hispanic man jumped and almost lost his hold on the bamboo poles. He shook himself and added his lilting baritone to the chorus, mangling the words slightly but pleased with the on key rendition.

"That should do it quite nicely! Thank you very much, Mr. Hawkins, I think we're ready to get this show back on the road," Stoker declared, obviously pleased with his efforts. He switched places with the amused man and the elevator resumed its upward climb. Chet, looking back over his shoulder as the men moved around, wished he could throw his hands up in disgust.

Hammer had studiously ignored his pleas to abort the mission, unable to believe or perhaps comprehend the fact that the shift was under the influence of narcotic laced brownies. He had in fact, laughed at the idea to Chet's dismay. And now their poker faced, level headed, sometimes stern leader was exhibiting an enormous amount of glee in moving the caterpillar's head in different directions while doing some fancy footwork in his heavy boots. Kelly sincerely hoped he was simply familiarizing himself with the operation of the thing and not planning a major deviation from their instructions of entering the children's activity room, circling around once or twice, and then leaving. He could only imagine the chaos that would ensue, both with the caterpillar and their audience.

Shaking his curly haired head, Chet threw another glance backwards. Stoker had shut up for the moment; maybe he had reverted back to his usual silent self? Highly doubtful, in fact he was probably pondering his next order. He seemed to have appointed himself ringleader of the whole circus; he had casually and easily taken command after their dancing captain assigned him to the middle hump. Mmmmmmm, so old Mike there had leadership stars flashing in his eyes, did he? An interesting fact to be stowed away for later…

If he twisted just right, he could see Marco's boot clad feet. His buddy had finally stopped harmonizing with DeSoto, thank heavens, but was still shifting from one foot to the other. Still apparently uncomfortable with his pants, but if he wasn't careful with all that moving around he was going to rip out the engineer's handiwork. Kelly could hear some of the half mumbled dialog emitting from Lopez's mouth; it sounded like the other firefighter had turned off the happy trail and was now traveling down the paranoid path of the hallucinogenic rumbling through his body. Chet had to smile at the thought of the "pants police" arresting the Stoker family and hoped Mike wasn't paying any attention to Marco's ramblings.

He turned the other way and from this angle was able to catch sight of Gage's feet; curving beyond that he could just make out Desoto's slightly pigeon toed stance. He could no longer hear Johnny laughing, so either the medic was just being quiet or was possibly conversing in a low tone with his partner. Kelly couldn't believe John had been arguing with their captain, albeit a good natured, silly argument. He wondered how they had resolved it so quickly and how it had ended up with Hammer making like an Irish Fred Astaire. Probably never know the answer to that question, especially since it appeared that Johnny had gone from argumentative to finding everything incredibly funny.

And then there was Roy, who had stopped belting out that impossibly cute song. Chet hadn't pegged the man as a singer and it had never crossed his mind that DeSoto would know the words to a tune from a wildly popular musical. So that meant that Roy had either gone to see the musical or had watched the equally successful film version of it. From spacey cloud gazer to aspiring tenor, that had been quite a leap.

It was interesting how each of his crewmates was reacting to the marijuana laced brownies. Stoker had stepped into the leadership role like a natural, while their actual leader had swiftly leapt out of the position and was displaying his more artistic leanings. Marco had started out fretful, slid into giddiness, and was now becoming paranoid. Roy had gone from being kind of flakey to also demonstrating his artistic side. And Johnny was just too darn happy, exactly like he had been on one of their first shifts together when he was exposed to…..

"Melanie!" Chet exclaimed as realization struck him over the head like a sledge hammer. "That spaced out chick and her boyfriend from the van over the embankment that we rescued awhile back!* Holy smokes, Batman, that's who made the brownies and almost deprived Gage of his kid making abilities!"

The elevator lurched to a rough halt jolting Kelly back to the present. He heard Phil pulling the doors apart and felt the poles quiver slightly under his hands as everyone shifted their weight in anticipation of moving out. Hammer's calm voice took command once again as he casually instructed his men to "fall in line, march, and look smart about it". Chet snickered, not sure how that was possible since nobody was going to see them look like anything. He wasn't sure if he should be worried at what might occur in the next few minutes or just go with the flow; he decided on the latter as he followed their stalwart leader from the box.

The long caterpillar meandered down the hall towards the pediatric wing; Chet could hear complimentary comments being directed their way. So far so good as every pair of legs was marching in fairly good sync and the men were keeping quiet as directed. You couldn't say the same about their pants however – unless you walked bowlegged from too many hours in the saddle there was no way to avoid the swish, swish sound accompanying every step. He huffed softly and then grinned under the concealment of the silk as the odd but familiar sound brought back memories of elementary school. Each winter, their single file line of boys, across from the line of girls, would tread down the echoing hallways to the accompaniment of sharply creased corduroys. He hadn't thought about that in years, especially since he had never worn a pair of corduroys again after moving west at the age of twelve, but the recollections were pleasant.

The train of black pants and boots slowed and then stopped at a doorway, the slightly ajar double doors hiding them from the sight of the occupants. From inside came the rumble of children's voices, not the usual high pitched, excited voices of healthy children Chet associated with children at play, but subdued and hesitant. He grimaced as he remembered why they were here; hopefully this idea of Miss McCall's would give the kids inside something to brighten their day.

With his somewhat limited vision, Kelly saw Hawkins open the door a bit and peer inside. Dixie must have been watching as there was a sharp clap of hands and then the nurse's pleasing voice rang out.

"All right, children, we have a little surprise for you today for our reading time…..may I present a very hungry caterpillar!"

Phil, grinning like the Cheshire cat, shot out a long arm and pushed one door open while the other one was pulled from the inside. Captain Hammer began a sinuous crawl into the room, manipulating the poles like a pro. The insect's head bobbed up and down and side to side; Chet had a hard time keeping up with the nimble movements of his captain's feet that were as fast as the hands controlling the head.

A shocked silence was followed by excited squeals and giggles from the children as all six men entered the room and wove in and out of the small groupings of chairs, wheelchairs, and narrow beds on wheels for the nonambulatory children. Curious hands reached out to touch the silky fabric and Chet was unable to keep the silly smile off of his face as a tiny boy, head bandaged, latched onto his leg and clung tightly. The Irishman staggered, quickly righted himself, and tried to keep up with Hammer's now slower but steady pace. Luckily a candy striper noticed the clinging human barnacle and rescued the lineman before he tipped over and took the rest of the caterpillar with him.

Less than an hour later, the train of silk and men was heading for the elevator. In Chet's opinion, they had all behaved in a decorous manner, well, for five men under the influence. Of course, there had been that moment when Stoker had started singing what sounded like the words of the caterpillar story to the tune of the Itsy Bitsy Spider. The other guys had promptly joined in, making Chet wonder if they had rehearsed this and not bothered to tell him. There was no way, especially the single and childless guys, that they would know the words to a children's book. But the song had been well received by both the kiddos and their caregivers; Kelly had managed to hum along but didn't dare try and fudge the words.

They had also, with the encouragement of head nurse Dixie McCall, paraded through several of the spacious rooms that held twelve beds. That had simply involved entering and meandering down the center aisle and out the door on the other side. It would have been a speedy process except for the fact that their normally reserved leader had again done a little showing off, both with the wooden poles and his footwork. Chet could do nothing but curse himself for being positioned behind the improvising captain and mumble under his breath as he tried to stay upright and match or at least keep up with the insect head.

But Johnny had been right; the whole process had definitely taken less than two hours even with the Cap's added shenanigans. They entered the freight elevator and curled tightly into a circle while Phil repeated the earlier steps with the doors. As they began to descend, with Marco once again complaining about his pants and Johnny chastising him between snorts of laughter, Stoker cut across the conversations.

"I'm hungry," he declared loudly. "Let's get something to munch on, ok guys?"

Four voices agreed enthusiastically and Chet nodded sagely. The boys had just hit the munchie stage.

"Where should we go?" Marco asked as the elevator thunked to a rough stop.

"How about the cafeteria here at Rampart?" Roy suggested, and Johnny fervently seconded the idea.

Hammer stepped out the elevator and abruptly stopped, nearly causing a pileup behind him. "Where's this place at?"

"Let me lead the way, Cap, I know how to get there from these back hallways." Roy said.

"Good, very good, let's turn this baby around!"

The rest of the men wound out of the elevator. DeSoto lifted the silky side of his canopy and stuck his head out. "Are we switching places?"

"Heck no, just turn around where you stand. This big bug can go backwards," Dick instructed and his crew obediently shuffled around. "Let's go get some chow, boys!"

Roy struck off down the hall, the tail now leading. Chet followed the long legs of Mike and contemplated the logistics of winding their way thru the busy hallways to the cafeteria. Hawkins shared his concerns as he strolled alongside Hammer and brought up that problem as well as another one.

"Captain Hammer, just how do you propose to eat? You cannot set this caterpillar down in the cafeteria, and short of resting the top of the costume on your heads so that you can free up your hands…."

Hammer cleared his throat. "Of course we won't damage this fine specimen, Mr. Hawkins. We'll simply choose something sweet or salty out of the vending machines, and let you carry the loot back to the van for us, if that's ok with you of course."

"Right, I can do that for you and your men." Phil appeared to be somewhat mollified by the answer he received until they swayed around a corner. An exclamation and the sound of metal hitting the floor, along with the lead paramedic's hasty apology reached their ears. Phil's next question came out in a harsh whisper but Chet still heard it. "And just how do you propose making your way to the machines without wiping out half the staff of the hospital?"

Dick's reply was sheepish. "Would you mind running interference for us?"

A disgusted snort escaped Hawkins but he left Hammer's side and hastened towards DeSoto, who had slowed their pace down considerably. They picked up speed a bit as the man cleared a path for them.

Chet felt his ears burning as they wound their way through white uniform and green scrub clad legs; most of the comments were positive but there were a few…..

"Gage, I'm gonna get you," he promised under his breath as a group of nurses kept pace with them and offered up some suggestions concerning both the caterpillar and the black legs underneath it. He literally cringed as one outspoken member of the group let out a whoop.

"I recognize those boots! There are firemen under that costume ladies!" Little screams of glee met her announcement and now the white shod feet moved closer, hands reaching out to lift the sides to determine which station the distinctive boots belonged to.

DeSoto broke into an undignified trot, dragging the rest of them with him. Fleeing the hounds of hell no doubt, Chet thought, as he clutched his bamboo sticks a little tighter and tried to jerk away from the questing, outstretched fingers. His stomach was beginning to bounce, confirming his earlier suspicions about being at the end of the crack the whip line. Hammer was complaining sotto voice about Roy's actions while also trying to reason with the nurse that was trying to lift the garish green head up.

"Ladies, ladies!" A stern voice interrupted the noisy melee; fingers instantly disappeared as the head nurse's voice scattered the women and brought the caterpillar to a stumbling halt.

"John Gage, what has gotten into you fellows?"

Chet couldn't hear the sputtered reply, but since he was the only one who actually knew what was happening, he figured he had better speak up before Gage really got himself into trouble.

~eeeEEEeee~

Two hours later five very quiet men climbed into Johnny's van. Without a word of complaint, Chet crawled into the nest of camping gear and got comfortable. He peered over the seat and scrutinized his silent crewmates.

"Eh, sorry guys for ratting you out, but," he began in an apologetic tone.

Captain Hammer interrupted, leaning sideways in his seat so that he could view the firemen behind him. "It was a smart thing to do, Kelly, if anything you should be commended for your actions. Let's forget the whole thing, shall we? There was no harm done, so I don't see the need to track down the woman to press charges; the fire department doesn't need THIS kind of publicity."

Murmured agreement rose from his men. Johnny's hand hovered over the keys hanging from his ignition as he considered the words. "Yeah, and Dixie and Dr. Early sure won't be telling any tales. They were both cool about it."

"That's for sure, especially when they let us satisfy our munchie cravings," Marco agreed fervently, rubbing his stomach and stifling a belch as his chili settled. The bag of Fritos rustled under his hand as he moved it away from Stoker's keen gaze.

Mike smiled. "Don't worry, Marco, I'm stuffed. Plus I think my cravings have pretty much subsided."

"Geesh, I hope so. I think you cleaned the cafeteria out of those meatballs and the bread pudding," Roy teased gently, slipping his candy bar wrapper under his leg and thinking about what had transpired after his slightly panicked run down the hall and Chet's disclosure.

Under close supervision by Dixie, the men had returned the caterpillar back to Phil Hawkins's van. Phil, his earlier irritation about his creation walking backwards down the busy hallways already gone, had accepted the men's thanks and handshakes with an amused smirk. He had garnered a kiss from the nurse which had changed the smirk to a pleased smile; he drove off slowly, waving a hand in farewell through his open window.

Dixie, hands on hips, had whirled around in time to catch the Station 51 men slinking towards freedom via Gage's vehicle. It was the wordless glare piercing Johnny's back that made him turn around, his boyish smile in full wattage. She had advanced on them with a smile of her own and her hand outstretched.

"Keys, Mr. Gage. Until Joe checks you all out and the, um, brownies wear off you can lounge around the lounge and enjoy some food."

And that was what had happened. They had remained out of sight, sequestered really as no one was allowed to enter the room they were in. They ate and guzzled water until Dr. Early deemed them safe to leave. Now they were headed back to the station to retrieve vehicles and finish their day off.

"You know, I think the kids enjoyed the caterpillar," Marco mused.

"And the dancing….." Roy added, grinning.

"Don't forget the singing…" Johnny contributed with a chuckle, down shifting as they rolled to a red light.

"That's all that matters, right? The children were happy, and we all got out of there in one piece." Mike said.

"Mostly in one piece," Marco complained, pointing at his pants but refraining from touching them. "What I want to know is why didn't your pants rip apart?"

"Oh that's easy. I took a look at them last night after Connie went to bed and noticed they needed some reinforcement, so I got on the sewing machine and fixed them."

Lopez slapped a hand to his forehead. "Why didn't you fix mine, Stoker?"

"The noise woke up the wife and I kinda got distracted after that….." His voice was apologetic but his smile was sly as his admission was met with groans and laughs.

Roy slumped back in his seat shaking his head. He looked over his crewmates all relaxed and laughing, and wondered how he had ended up with such an odd but great group of guys. Only time would tell whether the camaraderie would continue to grow but he had a strong feeling that it would. And Marco was right; the young patients had enjoyed the visit from the crawly insect, Dixie had been pleased with the overall visit, and they hadn't embarrassed themselves too much, at least as far as he remembered! It may have lasted a little longer than it should have thanks to those pot laced brownies, but there was plenty of time left in the day to spend with his family and work on their Christmas plans.

He sighed in contentment and stretched out his legs as far as he was able. Closing his eyes, he let himself bask in the low key merriment going on about him while letting his mind wander ahead to his wife and children.

~Fini~

 _A/N: The story being read by Dixie is The Hungry Caterpillar, by Eric Carle._

*Chapter 5, B is For Beginning


End file.
